The 423rd Quidditch World Cup
by SometimeSelkie
Summary: or Neville Wishes for the Patience of Angels. Draco has four tickets to the Australia/Morocco match in Greece. For reasons beyond a non-Malfoy's comprehension, his guests are his ex-girlfriend and the girl he wants to replace her with.
1. Parkin's Pincer

A/N: This story can be read alone, but it's also part of a larger story arc and will reference events from past fics (don't worry, you don't have to read the prologues to understand this). If you'd like to know more about how these characters came together in this particular way, check out my profile for my list of Trickverse fics. For Trickverse readers, this story is the sequel to both "The Insomniac's Blade" and "Pomp and Circumstance".

Before I forget, thanks to littlesun for reading over the first few chapters of this story and letting me know I was on the right track.

Also, because four characters have top billing in this story, it's going to jump character categories based on the events/POV of the current chapter. Be thee warned.

This is a work of fanfiction. Standard disclaimers apply.

**The Four Hundred and Twenty-Third Quidditch World Cup, or Neville Wishes for the Patience of Angels**

**Chapter One: Parkin's Pincer**

"I just can't ruddy well believe it," Ron said for the hundredth time as Ginny refastened her travel bag.

"Ron, it's the _Quidditch World Cup_," she explained patiently. "I'd go with the ghost of Voldemort if he could get me there."

"Well, Malfoy's not far off," her brother grumbled, crossing his arm over his chest as he sank into the chesterfield. "I haven't quite forgiven him for breaking into our home, among other things. I would think you'd remember that, considering he ended up in you room."

Oh, she remembered. The evening had led to his arrest. "I saved his life after the final battle, Ron," she pointed out. "He's just trying to thank me." Ron muttered something about traps. "And he saved my life too, so I somehow doubt he'd try to harm me now."

"Don't you dare break my Ominoculars," Ron warned, re-channeling his irritation. "I want them back in perfect working order."

She rolled her eyes. "Look, if you don't trust me to take care of them-"

"You're going to be late, dear," Molly fussed, trying to herd Ginny towards the fireplace. "It was nice of him to open his Floo for you," she added with false cheeriness. Ginny hadn't told anyone that his Floo had been re-keyed for her six months ago. There was a lot Ginny hadn't told her family about Draco.

To Ginny's surprise, George stepped forward. "If there's any trouble," he said, handing her a small velvet pouch that clinked, "any at all, come right back home. Don't worry about paying me back." Molly nodded approvingly at this.

"Thanks," she said awkwardly, adding the coins to her bag, "but you're all worrying over nothing."

"You never know," George insisted. George knew that Ginny had gone once to visit Draco in Azkaban.

No one knew that she'd continued to visit him after that first time. No one knew that she'd visited him briefly for Christmas, and though Ron had caught her sneaking into the Burrow at three o'clock in the morning on New Year's Eve, no one knew that she'd come from a dreadful row with Draco at Malfoy Manor.

The entire student body knew that Ginny had received a posy of Sighing Irises in the new year. As far as Ginny knew, no one knew that it was Draco's best attempt at an apology. No one knew that they'd exchanged a few short messages by owl during the spring semester.

No one knew that she was Draco Malfoy's friend. She preferred things that way. The situation was hard to reason through for her own benefit – how could she expect others to understand?

"Get cracking, then, Ginnykins," George said when she didn't respond to his comment, puffing himself up in an imitation of Percy. "_Some_ of us have jobs to get to."

Ginny giggled. George was still more somber than he'd ever been as a child, but she thought she could see signs of him moving past Fred's death. "Fine, then. I suppose I've got everything important. If I'm missing anything, I can probably do without it."

"You've got socks and knickers?" Molly asked. George pranced around behind their mother, batting his eyelashes and tugging at invisible undergarments.

"I'm not eleven, Mum," Ginny snapped, turning red.

"Yes, but you were once," Ron replied. "A WEEK in Egypt and you didn't think you'd need either."

Ginny decided to ignore him. They'd never understand why she was so distracted that summer. She hoisted her bag onto her shoulder. "I'm off. Think of me when you're reading about the match in the _Prophet, _Ron. If you promise to be good while I'm gone, maybe I'll bring you a souvenir."

"The Quidditch World Cup. _Malfoy_," Ron grumbled.

Ginny grinned wickedly. "I'll be sure to send him your love."

"You can give him this while you're at it," George added helpfully, producing a small packet from his robes.

Ginny wrinkled her nose in suspicion. "I'll pass." She leaned over to peck Molly on the cheek. "Bye, Mum. See you in a couple of days."

"Take care," Molly said, squeezing her shoulder. "If anything feels off, come right back home."

She didn't care if she had to fight through Dark wizards and sit beside Flobberworms. After being lucky enough to score Draco's extra ticket, she was _going_ to watch the Quidditch World Cup, come hell or high water.

"Bye," she said again, tossing some Floo powder into the fireplace and stepping into the flames. "Malfoy Manor!"

The first thing she heard was a woman's tinkling laugh. As Ginny emerged into the Manor's welcoming salon, Pansy Parkinson swiveled in her seat on the gilded, high-backed loveseat and her laugh died away. Ginny hoped that she didn't look visibly startled. Draco had led her to believe that he only had two tickets. "We've been waiting for _her_?" the erstwhile Slytherin asked, her voice betraying disappointment but not disbelief. Of course. Parkinson had been at the Manor that New Year's. She was probably the only person who had an inkling of her relationship with Draco.

Sitting beside Parkinson with a look of utter shock on his face was Parkinson's boyfriend, Neville Longbottom. He and Ginny stared foolishly at each other for a moment before Draco rose to his feet from his armchair.

"Good to see you, Ginny," he said, completely unruffled, and Ginny saw Neville's shocked gaze flicker to their host. "We should be off as soon as possible. Shall we?"

"Let's Apparate over to the Authority," Parkinson suggested. "I nearly caught my suitcases in the Floo on the way over."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You shouldn't need more than one suitcase for a two-night trip."

Parkinson rolled her eyes right back at him. "Not everyone has a Hartley Super-Expansion Series like you do."

He flushed slightly. "Fine, we'll Apparate."

"I can't," Ginny broke in. Both Draco and Parkinson turned to her; Neville had hardly looked away from her since she had arrived. "My birthday isn't for another two weeks," she explained. "I'm still sixteen. It's okay," she said wearily as Parkinson puffed up, effectively heading off whatever denigrating tirade she was about to unleash. "I'll just Floo over."

"You don't have to do that, Ginny." Neville spoke for the first time.

"You'll come with me," Draco decreed.

"Or I could-" Neville started.

"That's fine," Parkinson snapped, glaring at Neville. Ginny hadn't thought that the situation could get any more awkward, but she'd evidently been mistaken. Neville cleared his throat and stared at the floor. Parkinson turned to glare at Ginny for good measure. Ginny shot a narrow glance at Draco.

Draco looked pleased. "I'll lead the way," he said, hefting a very chic-looking suitcase and parading out of the room. Neville stopped staring at Ginny when Parkinson snapped her fingers irritably in front of his face, and Ginny followed Draco out of the room before she could be alone with the couple.

She was going to kill Draco. She thought that they had an understanding that their friendship was best kept discreet. If he'd at least had the decency to let her know that Parkinson and Neville were going to the Cup as well, she could've prepared Neville for the shock of a Weasley and a Malfoy getting along. As things stood, though, who knew what Parkinson was filling his head with at the moment? It was obvious that this was the first he had heard of it. Had Pansy simply neglected to tell Neville about that New Year's, or had Draco sworn her to secrecy? Ginny had a lot of questions, and she was sure she wasn't going to like some of the answers.

Draco had stopped at an Apparition point in the Manor gardens. He smirked a bit as she approached, and Ginny found it unpleasant enough that part of her recoiled. She sneered at him and his smirk grew wider, so she opted to turn around and watch Neville and Parkinson. Neville was carrying one navy suitcase and one pink one, which incensed Ginny further, but she didn't have much time to ruminate on it as she was distracted by Draco winding his arm around her waist.

"Hold on," he murmured, drawing her flush against him. "I'm not used to having someone Side-Along and I don't want to splinch you."

Ginny was sure that her face was scarlet as she thought of what Neville and Parkinson likely thought of this display. She knew Draco was doing this to rile them further. "Look, I'm just going to Floo," she decided, stepping away from him.

He tightened his hold and dragged her back to him. "It was a joke," he said quickly. "I'm not going to splinch you. I've brought you safely before, remember?"

Yes, she remembered. He'd hit her with a Freezing Charm first.

"Are you lot ready?" Parkinson broke in. Neville was looking over at Ginny with concern.

"Yes," Draco answered. "Let's go." Ginny clutched her pack more tightly with one hand and reluctantly wrapped the other around Draco's shoulder. "Ready?" he whispered, and Ginny felt the crush of Apparition take her.

They appeared with a pop in a soaring marble lobby. Neville and Parkinson were already there. Ginny disengaged hastily from Draco and gave Neville a reassuring smile as they left the Apparition point.

"Here are your travel papers," Draco said, pulling a small folder from his robes and handing it to Ginny. "Come on." He strode up to the receiving counter.

"Welcome to Twonk International Portkey Authority," a distinguished older wizard said as they approached.

"Reservation for Malfoy," Draco said without preamble.

"One moment." The wizard scanned a parchment in front of him.

"Alright, Ginny?" Neville asked.

"Yes, fine. How's your summer been so far?" she asked, eager to stay on neutral topics with her friend while Draco and Parkinson were nearby.

"Good," he answered with a glance over his shoulder at Draco. "I've got a flat in Prague for when I get there, and I've been spending a lot of time in the garden keeping my techniques sharp. I don't want to look like a fool when I get out there."

"You'll be brilliant," Parkinson purred, appearing at his side.

Draco was right behind her. "We're cleared. Let's get to our Portkey." He led the group to a numbered archway off the concourse which was attended by a smartly-dressed witch. "Malfoy, party of four," he said to her.

"Destination Athens?" she finished for him. "You've been cleared for departure. If I could just check everyone's travel papers, we'll get you situated and get your luggage stowed and you'll be on your way."

"Perfect. Go ahead," he said, ushering Ginny forward. Once the stewardwitch checked her papers, she entered a large chamber housing an International Portkey, a chest-high gold cylinder with five steel handles protruding from it. Ginny had been eleven the last time she'd seen one. She rounded the apparatus and stood in front of one of the handles. Draco followed her in and stood at an adjacent handle. Neville chose Ginny's other side and Parkinson stood beside him. Draco gave Neville a hard look, which he returned.

_This is going to be a disaster_, Ginny thought as their luggage was affixed to the empty handle using rugged Sticking Charms. Her excitement over the upcoming match was overshadowed by the awkwardness of the current situation. The trip was only for two nights, but how was she supposed to survive it if Parkinson thought she was a rival for Neville's affections and Draco continued to act like Ginny's bosom buddy to make some obscure point to their travelling companions? She _really _needed to talk to Neville away from the other two and explain the situation – and Draco's delicate mental condition – to him before he decided Draco had placed her under the Imperius Curse for his amusement. Draco. Damn him, why hadn't he told her that Neville and Parkinson were coming?

"Your luggage has been secured," the stewardwitch announced. "Are all passengers ready for transit?" Everyone nodded. "Your Portkey will activate in ten seconds," she said. "Please enjoy your trip." She exited the room.

Ginny gripped her handle like she was steering a pram. "Greece, here we come!" she heard Parkinson squeal, and then she felt the hooking sensation under her navel and they were whirling through the air. It went on and on. Something was wrong...they weren't stopping...


	2. Starfish and Stick

**Chapter Two: Starfish and Stick**

After what felt like an interminable amount of time, Neville finally felt his feet touch ground and he skidded to a stop. Beside him, Pansy grinned with excitement. On his other side, Ginny missed her landing and went careening into Malfoy. Neville stepped back from the Portkey, waiting almost instinctively with his arms out for the moment that Malfoy shoved Ginny away from him. Malfoy staggered backwards, taking care to keep Ginny upright.

Neville didn't know why Ginny was there. He hadn't known that Ginny was going to come; he'd assumed that the fourth they'd waited for at Malfoy Manor was another Slytherin. He should've been happy when she'd burst from the fireplace, but instead he'd been dumbfounded. What was she, of all people, doing in _Malfoy Manor_? One one hand, having her present was a boon – he'd braced himself for travel with another enemy and now the only malevolent presence he had to deal with was Malfoy – but the sheer unexpectedness of the situation filled him with unease. Ginny was friends with Malfoy? Friendly enough to Side-Along with him? He was an ex-convict, for Merlin's sake! And one of the things he'd been convicted of was breaking into her house! If he remembered correctly from trial coverage in _The Quibbler_, she'd testified on his behalf. That part had never made sense to him. (_The Quibbler _had also reported that she'd been wearing faded yellow robes. He didn't know why _The Quibbler_ felt compelled to report on wardrobe choices, but at least they told the truth.) Now Ginny was sagging in Malfoy's arms, looking decidedly green as Malfoy smoothed a stray wisp of hair out of her face and bent his head to whisper to her. Neville was having a hard time processing the scene before him; it was like watching a panther comfort a baby bird. Ginny nodded weakly and as Malfoy rearranged himself around her, the expression on his face gave him away. Well, that explained why she was invited, but it didn't necessarily explain why she was _there_. Porters had appeared to detach their luggage and Malfoy was waving them away from Ginny. "Get our bags," he snapped and ushered Ginny out of the chamber.

"So what, he expects me to be a pack mule?" Pansy growled.

"I'll get them, just take your bags," Neville said, still mollified by his new knowledge and eager to check on Ginny.

"All of them?" she whined, but she was reaching for them.

She'd been in a right snit since Ginny had arrived. So much for the rest and relaxation she'd promised him. "Did you know she was coming?" he asked.

Pansy scowled in the direction of the exit. "No."

On the concourse, Malfoy had sat Ginny on a chair and was pressing a damp handkerchief to her forehead. "Stop it," she mumbled, pushing at his elbows.

"Are you okay?" Neville asked her.

She nodded, successfully pushing Malfoy away.

"Not used to international travel?" Pansy inquired, her voice syrupy-sweet.

Ginny shot her a dark look. "I don't know what happened," she muttered, making to get to her feet. "Stay away," she warned Malfoy when he stepped in, and she stood.

"We can grab a Portkey to our hotel on Olympus now if you're alright," Malfoy said. "Or just Floo," he suggested hastily as Ginny paled.

"Would you mind if we just Floo?" Ginny looked to Neville and Pansy.

"That's fine," said Neville. Pansy sighed loudly to show that she did indeed mind before turning to the Floo queue. "Here's your suitcase, Malfoy." He took it with a small nod.

"And mine?" Ginny asked. Before he could answer, she read his answer in his face and frowned. "I'm fine, Neville, really," she assured him, snatching her bag out of his hand before he could react.

The hotel was something out of a travel brochure, all gleaming white and blue, open enough to allow the sea breeze to waft through the lobby and flutter the large Quidditch World Cup advert hanging on the wall. "Wow," Pansy breathed, setting down one of her suitcases so she could grab Neville's hand. "It's like a dream, isn't it?"

Neville had to agree as he looked down at her, radiant in the torchlight, her bad humour forgotten. It was like seeing the sun after a storm. "Rest and relaxation," he reminded her, nuzzling her dark hair.

"Not too much relaxation," she amended, her eyes twinkling mischievously. When he grinned back at her, she gave him an impulsive kiss.

"We can go to our rooms now." When Neville looked towards Ginny's voice, she was shuffling her feet and looking like she wanted to disappear into the lobby's mosaic floor. Malfoy was beside her, gaping openly at Neville and Pansy.

"Trying to attract Chizpurfles, Draco?" Pansy asked airily as she snuggled closer to Neville. "You look like Vince."

Malfoy's mouth snapped shut and he turned on his heel. Pansy was right; she _was_ able to handle him. Neville picked up Pansy's suitcase and they marched after Malfoy, Ginny trailing behind them. Malfoy was composed once again when he stopped in front of two adjacent wooden doors. "Now what?" he asked.

"...Now we drop off our bags and go get something to eat?" Pansy ventured, giving Malfoy a puzzled look.

There was a small smile on Malfoy's face, and his eyes were altogether too bright. "Whose bags go where? Two beds per room. Is it witches and wizards? Play Hogwarts and we go by houses? Or," he continued, turning to Neville, his grin twisting into something unpleasant, "would you like some time alone with your lady love? What do you say, Longbottom?"

* * *

Pansy maneuvered her bags through the doorway and Neville barely felt the hand between his shoulder blades before he was propelled into his hotel room. Air rushed past him as the door closed forcefully but soundlessly, doubtless a concession for the other hotel patrons. "You are, without a doubt, the most _useless_ excuse for a wizard I've ever had the misfortune to meet," Malfoy seethed as he swung his suitcase onto the bed by the window, the one Neville had been about to claim.

Neville wished that Pansy was there. He hadn't had Malfoy's full fury turned on him for...oh, years, and it was making him feel like a stuttering first-year all over again. Which was ridiculous, when he thought about it. Malfoy was an inept criminal and a Hogwarts dropout. Neville had a job and his NEWTs. And a girlfriend. Malfoy's girlfriend. "You didn't really expect me to room with Pansy, did you?" he asked, doing his best to keep his tone mild. "It's improper."

Malfoy folded his arms and gave him a disbelieving look. "Improper."

"Yes." He wanted nothing more than to be in the next room enjoying some precious solitude with his girlfriend.

His adversary stepped forward, his eyes flashing. "You are _supposed_ to be with _Pansy_," he hissed.

"If I'm supposed to be with her, why didn't you just say so?" Neville asked. "You've been controlling everything else."

"Because I'm the bad one!" Malfoy exclaimed. "You know that as well as I do. Anything I decide is suspect. If _you_ decided to stay with Pansy, it would be different."

Neville decided to cut to the chase. "Look, I wasn't going to make Ginny stay with you."

Malfoy pursed his lips, lost in thought for a moment. "That was your problem? Ginny doesn't mind, for future reference."

"You're best mates now, are you?" Neville snapped, the sarcasm he'd picked up from Pansy bleeding into his words. "Funny, she's never mentioned you. Ever." This outburst only seemed to amuse Malfoy. The smugness made Neville want to cut deeper, to tell Malfoy how much Ginny loved Harry and how Pansy was so much happier now than she'd ever been with him, but thoughts of the witches next door were the very thing that made him hold his tongue. Malfoy was Pansy's ex, but for better or for worse, they were still friends and Neville was going to have to get used to his presence. And if Ginny was really friends with Malfoy, an improbable proposition that was looking more likely with every passing moment, antagonizing Malfoy was only going to perturb her. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

Malfoy snorted. "I don't expect you to understand."

"Can we call some sort of truce? We're sharing a room now, and Pansy's just going to turn on both of us if we keep fighting."

"Begging for mercy already?" Malfoy jeered.

"I'm serious. It's pretty obvious that Pansy didn't tell you I was coming and it was an unpleasant surprise."

"She was cagey. I guessed she was bringing Zabini. I'm trying to figure out what she's doing with you in the first place."

"Maybe you ought to ask her that."

"Funny, she's never mentioned you. Ever," Malfoy added with a smirk.

Neville sighed. "Look, the girls are probably waiting for us."

"You really don't know Pansy, do you?" Malfoy chortled, throwing open their door. The hallway was deserted.


	3. Double Eight Loop

**Chapter Three: Double Eight Loop**

"Who's going to win the game tomorrow?" Parkinson asked after they'd placed their orders at the bistro they'd found.

"Australia," Ginny said automatically.

"Morocco," Draco said in the same instant.

"You're joking, right?" Ginny asked him. "Australia's been an unstoppable force."

"Morocco's more technically proficient," Draco argued. "Australia's all show."

"Yeah, they made it to the Cup on 'all show'," Ginny snorted. "They've got incredible chemistry."

"Sure – and that's how they score so many flukey goals, but a well-organised team should be able to cut through them like butter. I'm telling you, Estonia should've put them down like rabid Doxies."

"So it's going to be a good game, then," Neville broke in.

"It's going to be a great game," Ginny corrected with a grin.

The group kept to more or less neutral topics throughout the meal: Quidditch, Vienna and Parkinson's upcoming apprenticeship at a fashion house there, the food they were eating. Ginny was grateful for the lack of animosity at the table (she'd been careful to keep her opinions to herself as Parkinson extolled the virtues of the fashion industry) and she suspected that everyone else was as tired of the constant tension as she was. Then, as dessert was served, Pansy asked, "What are you doing in the autumn, Draco?"

"I've received my acceptance letter from Durmstrang."

"You're really going through with it?" Ginny murmured, flaking her baklava with her fork.

"You – you're serious?" Parkinson spluttered.

"What else am I supposed to do?" Draco snapped, the fragile peace of the table broken. "Go back to Hogwarts? It's out of the question. Even if they let me come back, everyone would know why I hadn't been there last year. It just makes sense. I heard that Vince and Millicent will be there too." It sounded like a speech he'd rehearsed to himself countless times, and the fact that he would find that necessary made Ginny's throat constrict. She knew that what he said was true, but the way he said it... He sounded so matter-of-fact, like it was a foregone conclusion that he didn't have a friend left in Britain. He glanced over at her then, his eyes beseeching her to understand, and suddenly she did. The letters they'd exchanged – they'd all been about _her_. Her classes, her family. He'd only ever said he was doing well and attending to business, but she'd seen him over New Year's, gasping and clinging to her in the throes of nightmares, reliving painful experiences he'd forgotten. It would have been foolish to think that those problems had simply evaporated, but the reality was worse than that. She hadn't thought at all, hadn't analysed his statements to see if they made sense. She'd simply smiled at the parchment and continued on her day as he felt alone in the world. And now he would be alone, a self-fulfilling prophesy. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to feel driven away from Hogwarts.

"Well, between the three of us we'll make moving to the Continent the latest trend, then," Parkinson said. "But I meant why go back to school at all? You don't need your NEWTs to survive."

"I need work," he said. "Something to occupy my days with. I've been studying law."

Parkinson looked impressed. "Really?"

"Really. I've partnered up with a solicitor to look over Father's case."

"And?"

Draco pushed his plate away and dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. "I don't want to speak too soon, so I'll just say we are exploring various avenues at present."

"You've got the lingo down, at least," Parkinson laughed. Ginny looked over at Neville, who had been conspicuously silent since the conversation had turned to Draco, and hoped that she didn't look half so disgruntled as he did at the prospect of Lucius Malfoy ever regaining his freedom. Ginny hated Malfoy Senior – she'd hate him for the rest of her life for introducing her to Tom – but she couldn't bring herself to condemn Draco for trying to regain the only family he had left.

The bistro was on a busy street, and people were beginning to congregate at the pubs when they decided to head back to the hotel to sleep. Ginny longed to join in the festivities, but Draco was right – they'd moved through time zones and tomorrow was going to come early. She spied the red and blue of Australia's uniforms everywhere. Maybe she'd use some of George's money to buy a jersey. He'd understand. On the short walk to the hotel, Draco approached Ginny when Parkinson dragged Neville over to a darkened storefront. "How are you feeling?" he murmured.

"Still fine," she said, trying not to get exasperated. One moment of dizziness and suddenly everyone thought she was made of porcelain! "I'm sorry."

Draco waved off her apology. "Happens to everyone at some point, I imagine."

"No, I mean about the last few months. I should've seen you. Owled more."

"I've _got_ to get one of those scarves before we go," Parkinson announced as she skipped up with Neville in tow.

Draco tapped Ginny on the shoulder. "Let's go," he said with a small smile. Ginny felt an echoing grin spread across her face, even as she noticed Parkinson narrow her eyes at her.

Parkinson had been altogether too benign since they'd first arrived at the hotel. She'd ignored Ginny as they prepared for dinner and not addressed her directly at the meal. Ginny's luck ran out when they returned to their rooms and the first thing Parkinson did was fix her with a piercing glare. "What are you playing at?" she demanded.

"Quidditch," Ginny answered promptly. "The World Cup, that is."

"You know what I mean," Parkinson growled. "Let him alone."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'm not trying to steal Neville from you," she promised, "so there's no sense getting angry every time he talks to me. We're just friends."

"Wow." Parkinson continued to glower at her. "I'm talking about _Draco_."

"What?"

"You're taking advantage of him."

Ginny snorted in disbelief. "How would I possibly take advantage of him? He's the one who invited me here. I didn't ask to come. We're friends. If anything," she mused, thinking back over the past year, "he's been the one taking advantage of me."

"...You're an idiot," Parkinson snapped, and she stomped off towards the bathroom.

"Good night!" Ginny sang out as the door slammed shut. It had been all too easy to reduce the other girl to simple insults. She threw on her pyjamas and strolled out onto their small balcony.

"Hullo, Ginny." Neville was on the adjoining balcony.

She waved and leaned on the banister that separated them. "It's lovely out here, isn't it? I can hear the ocean."

He nodded. "Is Pansy coming out?"

"She's locked in the bathroom right now. She's in fine form tonight. First she accused me of trying to steal you away, then she accused me of taking advantage of Draco's hospitality."

Neville frowned. "Out of everyone here, I'm the one most guilty of that. Maybe I shouldn't have come, but she was so insistent."

"Well, I'm glad you're here."

"Did you think she was bringing Zabini, too?"

"No, I thought Draco only had two tickets."

He suddenly looked uncomfortable. "You'd meant to be alone with him? If you'd wanted to room with him-"

"Oh, no!" she broke in with a laugh. "It's not like that. I just meant I hadn't thought about the particulars. I just wanted to see the game so badly. Now that I'm here, I'm glad you – and Pansy – are here. I'd probably end up killing Draco if it was just the two of us. It's good to have another friend around."

"Oh," he said, his brow smoothing perceptibly. "Are you feeling better now?"

Not this again. "Of course I am!" she cried. "It was a dizzy moment, not a seizure! I guess I just didn't expect the Portkey trip to last so long."

"But hadn't you taken one before? I remember Ron talking about your trip to Egypt."

"I was younger back then," Ginny snapped. Neville looked taken aback by her venom. "I guess my tolerance might have changed when I grew up," she added in a more civil tone of voice, trying to sound less like his girlfriend and more like a decent human being. "But I really think it was just a one-off thing."

"I hope so."

"We should probably get to bed," she said, reluctant to chance Parkinson's moods again.

"You're right. G'night."

Parkinson was still in the bathroom. Ginny flopped into her bed and pulled the covers over her head before that could change.


	4. Sloth Grip Roll

**Chapter Four: Sloth Grip Roll**

The hotel's breakfast room was exquisite, and the day was bright and sunny. Neville noted that many of the patrons were wearing Quidditch paraphernalia, and it seemed that every table was full of animated chatter. Except for his table. A waitress came by with a carafe and Malfoy looked up from his paper to nod curtly at her and give Neville a hard look before returning to his reading.

Well, it was better than conversation, Neville supposed. He should have stayed in bed and let Malfoy go to eat by himself, but he would've hated to sleep through breakfast and make everyone late.

"You can read Greek?" Ginny asked, sliding into a seat with a plate full of food and looking fresh as a daisy.

"No," Malfoy said, tossing the paper aside. "I was checking the stocks. Your friend snores," he added with a pointed glance at Neville.

Ginny grinned at both of them. "So do I. Isn't the weather great? You couldn't ask for a better game day. I feel like it's Christmas morning or something."

Malfoy already looked less perturbed, Neville noted. Ginny seemed much more at ease than she had yesterday, and he wondered if it was the impending Quidditch match or Pansy's absence that had lifted her spirits. "Where's Pansy?"

"She was showing signs of life when I left," Ginny said, "so she should be down soon, I guess. I can't wait to get out to the pitch. I went to the last World Cup at home and the atmosphere there was just incredible for the whole day. I can see there are a lot of fans here, but it's a hotel, people are going to behave themselves."

"I remember a tentful of Irish blokes going wild, drinking Firewhiskey and setting off fireworks right in the middle of everything," Malfoy said. "That was a hell of a game, too."

A funny thing, memory. Neville hadn't been to that game but his most prevalent remembrance of the event was the Death Eater riot. But it seemed uncharitable to bring that up when the two of them were in such a good mood.

"Forget it, Pansy," Malfoy said suddenly, looking past Neville. "Change those shoes. I'm not going to carry you around all day."

Neville turned in his seat to catch Pansy stride up to them on strappy sandals with perilously high platforms. "Of course you won't," she said, stopping behind Neville's chair and bending down to wind her arms around his neck. "_Neville_ will carry me around. Good morning," she whispered with a kiss to his cheek.

"Are you sure you'll be comfortable?" he whispered.

"They're Pushkins. The anti-blister charms won't start fading for another six months, at least. Is their fruit fresh?" she asked with a glance over at the food.

"It's great," he assured her, and she went to check for herself.

Malfoy and Ginny kept up their Quidditch talk through the meal and as they took to the streets. Neville was once again grateful for Ginny's presence. As she kept Malfoy fully occupied, he could enjoy his time with Pansy uninterrupted. For her part, Pansy seemed determined not to let Ginny ruin her day, and there was plenty to distract her. As they neared the World Cup pitch, the number of vendors and street performers rose until they reached the site and the crowd became the only thing Neville could see. Pansy could spot a shopping opportunity in any situation, though, and when temptation finally became too much for her she tugged on Malfoy's sleeve. "Draco, we're passing up all the vending stalls! Let's go through them before we find our seats."

Malfoy glanced over at the particular stall that had caught Pansy's attention. "More shoes? Are you serious?"

"I've got souvenirs to buy," Ginny chimed in.

"I suppose I should get a program," Malfoy muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Fine, but I'm not following you around to every blessed shop."

"Of course you're not," Pansy soothed, clutching Neville's arm. "Neville is, remember?"

Malfoy grimaced at Neville. "You do realise you don't have to do everything she says, don't you?"

There was no malice in Malfoy's words. If anything, he seemed...sympathetic? "What else am I going to do?" Neville asked with a shrug.

"Sit down? Have a drink? Examine the local flora?" Malfoy suggested. "Your unthinking obedience is spoiling her – and the rest of us have to live with the results."

"Very funny," Pansy huffed.

"We'll meet back at this café, okay? And Pansy? Don't take forever or we're leaving you."

"If I come back without her, she deserves it," Neville promised. And for perhaps the first time in their lives, Neville and Draco smiled at each other.

* * *

Neville and Pansy returned to the café – together – to find Draco slouched in a seat with a glass of lemonade in his hand. "Where's Ginny?" Neville said immediately.

Draco shrugged. "I lost her."

"She's a big girl," Pansy said before Neville could go on the attack. "She knows where to find us." She juggled her bags. "Do you want to see what I bought?"

"Not at all," Draco drawled, raising his lemonade to his lips.

"First," Pansy said, "I got these sandals. Don't they just scream Greece? And then, oh, this necklace, a bit pedestrian but it's a Greek key motif so I had to have it, and here, isn't this arm band _incredible_? The stone's garnet, of course, not ruby, but it's real silver. And then these," she said, holding up a circle of loosely-strung amber beads.

"I wonder if it's too late to give your ticket to Flint," Draco mused. "At least he'd know he was here to watch Quidditch."

"This says 'Quidditch World Cup' on it!" Pansy exclaimed indignantly, flashing him the pendant hanging off her beads. "At least, that's what I think it says."

"That's great. And you, Longbottom?"

"Just this," Neville said, pulling a souvenir program from his pocket.

"Ginny and I got copies, too. And I got a pennant, since I got one from the last game. And some Ominoculars, which is what you _should_ have been buying instead of jewellery, Pansy."

"I watch Quidditch without Ominoculars all the time," Pansy sniffed.

Draco rolled his eyes.

"Can I get you something, Pansy?" Neville asked.

"I think she's got quite enough already, don't you?" Draco said snidely.

Neville ignored him. "Lemonade or something?"

"No, thank you."

"Let me guess, you bought a cask already at some charming stall?"

"Although I wouldn't say no to another table," Pansy decided.

"Aww, Pansy. I've missed you too."

"You make for a terrible tag-along, Draco."

Draco surveyed her blandly and then took a long pull on his lemonade.

Ginny rushed up to the table. "Sorry I took so long," she panted. "The queue was enormous, but look what I got!" She pulled an Australia Quidditch jersey halfway out of her bag.

Pansy clucked her tongue. "You should've bought a Morocco jersey. That's going to look terrible on you with your hair." Neville elbowed her sharply. "What?"

Ginny blinked at Pansy. "You're...joking, right?"

"No. You have to know that the red will clash horribly – the white and gold would've been much better," Pansy said, earning herself another elbow from Neville. "Ow! _What?_"

Draco cast an approving glance in Neville's direction before turning to Ginny. "She's right, you know. You're going to feel awfully stupid wearing that when we're out celebrating Morocco's victory."

"Is that so?" Ginny retorted with a grin, pulling the jersey out fully and unfolding it. "I'm so confident that I'm going to put it on right now."

"Well, at least this way you'll get some wear out of it," Draco said, and Ginny stuck her tongue out at him before the jersey went over her head. "Now can we get to our seats? Pansy, do you have any spending money left or are you ready to get to the pitch?"

"Let's go," she said, gathering up her bags.

By now the crowd was a veritable crush of people, so Neville slung an arm around Pansy to make sure they didn't get separated and kept his eyes focused on Ginny's red hair as she darted after Draco. At one point he nearly lost them as they went around a bend, but Pansy picked up the trail and they rushed around a knot of Morocco fans to catch up. When they were nearly caught up, a tall wizard stepped between Draco and Ginny and gave Draco a shove in the back, sending him stumbling forwards.


	5. The 423rd Quidditch World Cup

**Chapter Five: The 423rd Quidditch World Cup**

Neville tightened his hold on Pansy, ready to throw her out of harm's way as Draco righted himself and whirled with his wand drawn, his lips curled into a snarl Neville knew all too well. But when Draco caught sight of his assailant, a smirk spread over his face and he pocketed his wand, reaching out to clasp the other wizard's hand and dropping into rapid, flawless French. A second wizard insinuated himself into the conversation and all three of them began conversing. "These are my cousins, Niko and Angelo Rallis," Draco said to his travelling companions after a moment, and the two wizards bobbed their heads in turn. "You can thank them for these tickets."

Pansy waved from Neville's side. "Salut! Je m'appelle Pansy."

Neville reached for the nearest cousin's hand. "I'm Neville."

"Ginny," Ginny said by way of introduction, and the other cousin, the one with the darker hair – Niko? – made a show of grasping her hand and kissing it.

"Enchanté, mademoiselle," he declared with a wide grin. Neville didn't know much French, but he got that loud and clear and couldn't resist a glance at Draco, who'd managed to keep a pleasant expression on his face. "Tu viens d'Australie?"

"Sorry?" Ginny looked puzzled for a second, then grinned ruefully and tugged on her jersey. "Oh. Go Australia!"

Draco smirked and took off in French again, shaking his head.

"So help me, if you're telling them how stupid I am for supporting Australia..." Ginny started.

"No, he thinks you're Australian," he explained. More French ensued. "Let's get to our box. They've already been there."

Draco continued to talk with Niko and Angelo on the way to their seats. "Did he mention to you two that he had cousins here?" Ginny asked.

Neville shrugged. "Don't ask me."

"Not at all," Pansy said. "I've never seen them before in my life. The least he could've done is introduced us years ago – I would've liked an attractive foreign pen pal. Or two. Maybe I'd have given one to Daphne."

"They're too old for you," Neville said automatically.

"Says who?" Pansy asked.

"Yeah, says who?" Ginny echoed. "Neither of them can be older than Percy."

"Well, definitely too old for _you_, Miss Can't Apparate," Pansy said with a grin.

"And too old for you too, back when you were in school," Neville pointed out.

"But I'm a grown-up now. Maybe I'll trade up for a distinguished older man," Pansy teased.

"Right. Distinguished. They greeted their cousin by trying to shove him down."

"I never would've believed Draco would stand for that kind of behaviour if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes," Ginny said. "Not very Malfoy-like, are they?"

"Well, they're not Malfoys," Neville reasoned.

"They have to be," Ginny insisted. "They're not Blacks, that's for sure."

"That's not what I meant, but I suppose you're right."

The box was, needless to say, much more extravagant than the stands at Hogwarts. Almost immediately after they slid into their seats, someone called Angelo's name and a group of witches and wizards two boxes down were waving at them. With a few quick words to Draco and apologetic bows, they excused themselves.

"Sorry, they don't speak English and I haven't seen them in years," Draco said.

"So, they're Greek but they speak French?" Pansy asked.

"Oh, their first language is Greek, of course. French is the universal Malfoy language. It's all I spoke during my summers at Riviere-en-Ciel. Plus, they went to Beauxbatons."

Ginny leaned out over the railing. "Please thank them again for the tickets. This is wonderful."

* * *

A booming voice sounded over the pitch. The only word Neville understood was 'Quidditch', but it was all he had to know as the crowd began to cheer. Soon, the Australian mascots – massive white boomers – leapt onto the pitch and into the air, earning an appreciative roar from the crowd. Higher and higher the boomers climbed, spiralling upwards until Neville thought he could feel a breeze generated by their flight, and then they were gone, replaced by the Moroccan genies, eerily beautiful women and men with long, dark hair manipulating streams of fire that emanated from their palms. Their display was dazzling, its intricacy a foil to the raw power of the boomers.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" Pansy said to him.

"You could be one of them," he answered, and she flushed, pleased.

Ginny was the first in the box to leap to her feet cheering as the Australian team entered the pitch, and she continued to applaud gamely as the Moroccan team took the field and Draco smirked and nudged her. Like Neville and Pansy, Niko and Angelo seemed to be cheering for both teams, albeit more raucously. The referee entered the pitch and freed the balls. As one, Draco and Ginny raised Ominoculars to their eyes, their solemn gazes fixed on the players. Neville decided he should follow suit and turned his attention back to the pitch just as the whistle blew and the game commenced. Morocco gained possession of the Quaffle and zoomed off towards the goal in formation.

"How d'you suppose she managed to afford both those and the jersey?" Pansy whispered to him.

"Don't start," he whispered back as the carrying Moroccan Chaser narrowly avoided a collision with a Bludger.

"The Ominoculars," Pansy persisted. "Do you think Draco bought them for her?"

Neville glanced over at Ginny, who waved said Ominoculars over her head as Australia took possession of the Quaffle. "I don't know. They don't look the same as his. Can we just watch the game?" Australia scored and Ginny whooped with delight.

"You're always defending her," she accused.

"No I'm not. You're always attacking her."

"I'm never bringing you lot to another match," Draco called over; the game had been interrupted.

"What's going on?"

"Blatching called on McGregor," Ginny answered. "But Dehbi deserved it."

"What, because he's more talented?" Draco taunted.

Once Neville actually focused on the game, he found that it was nothing like the Hogwarts Quidditch he was accustomed to watching. The game was faster, the flying more precise and controlled. At ninety points to fifty for Morocco, the Australian Seeker went into a sharp turn and sped upwards, followed shortly by the Moroccan Seeker. Neville held his breath as the two blurs seemed to merge, and the crowd gasped as a Bludger collided with them and the Australian Seeker went spiralling towards the ground.

"Hurray!" cried Pansy, who'd begun cheering for Morocco, either because Ginny was cheering for Australia or because she was enamoured with the genies, who had just come out to celebrate the play.

"That was incredible!" Draco said after conferring with his cousins. "She's the best Beater I've ever seen."

"That was blagging!" Ginny cried furiously, glued to her Ominoculars.

"Hardly. Kilito was just righting himself. You're just upset that Australia's Beaters were off with their thumbs up their arses."

The Australian Seeker remounted her broom and kicked off to encouraging applause. "It doesn't matter," Ginny decided. "He missed the Snitch anyways and this is just going to get my Chasers riled up."

"_Your_ Chasers? Did you buy the team when I had my head turned?" Draco teased.

"Why do you think I was gone so long when we were souvenir shopping?" Ginny retorted, turning back to the pitch just in time to see Australia score. "What did I tell you?" she shouted over the cheering crowd, high-fiving Niko.

"Sickening, isn't it?" Pansy said into Neville's ear.

She was glaring at Draco, who was grinning at Ginny. "You're going to have to let it go," Neville warned her, the whole thing making him weary. "You can't be jealous of-"

"Jealous? Of _her_?"

"Do keep your voice down."

"Why would I be jealous of her? She's poor, she has those dreadful freckles, she kissed _Potter-_"

"Because she's with Draco," Neville muttered. He hated to say it aloud. The crowd roared but he ignored it.

Pansy sighed in exasperation. "Oh, not this again. Neville, I love _you_ and I don't care who Draco ends up with, but-"

"Prove it, then," he snapped. "She's my friend and I don't appreciate you talking about her the way you have. And she's Draco's friend too, whether you like it or not."

Pansy stared at him open-mouthed for a moment, then bowed her head and blinked hard.

"Sweet Circe," he growled to himself, then bent towards her. "Rest and relaxation, remember?" he said gently.

She nodded, still looking down, and he gave her hand a squeeze and tried to immerse himself in the game. At one point the Moroccan Chasers swarmed past an Australian Beater, who received a Bludger from her compatriot and sent it careening towards the Moroccans' tight formation, breaking them apart as they rolled out of the projectile's way. The Australian Seeker suddenly swerved into the fray, dodging through the enemy Chasers and continuing on a mad dash to the turf. Beside Neville, Ginny gasped and leaned over the railing, Ominoculars forgotten. The Seeker's hand shot out and she skidded to a halt ten metres over the field, her fist raised in triumph.

The announcer was drowned out by a deafening roar from the crowd. Ginny reached across Draco to grab on to Niko as she jumped up and down, screaming.

"Well, that's that!" Pansy shouted to Neville as she got to her feet. "It was a fun game to watch, though!"

"It was!" he shouted back, thanking his lucky stars that her moods were usually self-correcting. "Thanks for bringing me."

She kissed him soundly. "As if I would've chosen anyone else," she retorted. "You should know better."

Ginny was performing a ridiculous victory dance, whooping and prancing in front of Draco to show off her jersey. He didn't seem to mind at all. The boomers burst out onto the pitch and the cheering continued, rising to a fever pitch as the victors re-entered the arena. Even Draco was cheering as the Australian team made a slow victory lap around the pitch. When the players flew past their box, Ginny leaned so far over the railing that Neville grabbed onto the back of her jersey to keep her from overbalancing.

At last the team left the pitch and Ginny collapsed into her seat with a happy sigh and tugged on Draco's hand. "Do you have anything to say to me?" she asked sweetly.

"Yes – Morocco's the better team," Draco said, taking his seat beside her.

"Did you sleep through the game?"

"Did _you_? Australia was a mess out there. Their Seeker was constantly unguarded, their Chasers have no discipline whatsoever-"

"They _won_."

"Yeah, by less than fifty points. Morocco was outstripping them like nobody's business – if things had gone on for another fifteen minutes, the Snitch wouldn't have mattered."

"Well, see, that's what Seekers are for. Remember? You play the position on occasion?"

It was hard to take their argument seriously when they both had huge grins on their faces. Niko tapped Draco on the shoulder and started speaking to him.

Ginny gazed dreamily out over the pitch. "That was fantastic."

"Yes, yes, and now it's over," Pansy said. "Now are we going to go _do_ something or am I going to keep sitting here with my hand in the snack bowl?"

"Give the crowd a chance to clear out," Neville said. "If we leave now we'll just be standing in line to get out of the gates."

"Let's go to the beach," Pansy suggested.

"That could be fun." Neville certainly wasn't going to pass up an opportunity to watch her frolic in a swimsuit. "What do you think, Ginny?"

"Hmm?"

"Hey," Draco said, "Angelo and Niko are helping to host some party tonight and want to know if we'd like to come."

"A beach party?" Pansy asked, looking hopeful.

"A costume party. The theme's The Golden Age of Greece, but we-"

Pansy shrieked in delight. "YES! Yes, absolutely, we're going!" She nodded emphatically at Angelo and Niko.

"We don't have costumes," Ginny pointed out.

"I'll make them! It'll be fun!"

"Sure, and I'll end up dressed as a beggar or a prostitute."

"I could make a really nice prostitute outfit if you'd like."

"Uh, no thanks."

"Well, whatever you want, I'll make it," Pansy said impatiently. "We're going, yeah?"

Ginny smiled at Niko and Angelo. "If I get a decent costume, sure."

Draco nodded. "And since Longbottom does whatever Pansy does...I guess that means we're in."


	6. Plumpton Pass

**Chapter Six: Plumpton Pass**

"Ladies first!" Parkinson chirped when they arrived back at their rooms, snagging Ginny's elbow. "C'mon, Weasley, let's get you into costume." Ginny waved helplessly at Draco and Neville before Parkinson shut the door. "Strip," Parkinson ordered without preamble and she set about rummaging through her suitcase.

Ginny pulled off her jersey, folded it lovingly, and set it next to her bag. She discarded her robes in a heap nearby.

"Put this on." Parkinson held out a champagne-coloured corset.

"You've got to be joking. I'm not wearing a corset."

"You are." She shook the garment in her hand. "Bra off. This on. You'll look so much better. Trust me."

Ginny eyed it doubtfully. "Is it yours? If it is, it'll never fit me."

Parkinson sighed explosively. "It's a _corset_. I'll lace you in. Hurry up, I've got other people to outfit."

"This is crazy," Ginny muttered, but she humoured Parkinson and shucked her bra. Once she had the corset on, Parkinson flicked her wand and the laces tightened with alacrity. "Urgk!" Ginny wheezed as the air was forced out of her lungs. "Can't...breathe..."

"Sit down," Parkinson ordered. Ginny complied hastily, but the pressure on her ribs only increased until she could hardly bear it. "Can you breathe?"

Ginny glared at her and flopped backwards on the bed. From her prone position she could draw the barest amount of air. "No."

"Okay, okay." She hauled Ginny upright and loosened the laces reluctantly.

Once Ginny could breathe while sitting, Parkinson deemed the ordeal a success. Ginny was less convinced. Her waist was indeed nipped in, exaggerating the curve of her hip, but her breasts were unnaturally high. She patted her décolletage, noting how much more cleavage she had than before. It was nearly obscene. "I'm spilling out, here," she complained. "Told you it was too small."

"Yes, well, aren't you lucky," Parkinson muttered. She ripped the sumptuous white topsheet off of Ginny's bed and turned to her, fabric overflowing from her clenched fist. "So, what do you want? I can cover you up if you like."

Ginny shrugged, and the corset held fast. That was reassuring. "Aren't you the one in charge?"

Parkinson arched a manicured brow. "You're giving me free rein?"

"I'm wearing a bloody corset. I'd say I forfeited control the moment I put it on."

"Alright, then," Parkinson said with an avaricious glint in her eye. She stepped back and ran a critical eye over Ginny, the same way Ginny would evaluate an unfamiliar make of broom. "I'm going to give you a kind of hybrid look," she decided. "I doubt they're going to be sticklers for historical accuracy. Still, Draco's mad if he thinks he's getting a toga. Arms up!" she barked, and she began draping the sheet over Ginny's body. Ginny acquiesced silently to Parkinson's demands as the older girl began to subtly Transfigure the sheet into a garment. "I wish I had brooches for your shoulders," she muttered as she nicked a golden tie from their curtains and lengthened it with a tap of her wand.

"I just hope you can undo everything you're doing," Ginny fretted. "I'd hate to see Draco stuck with the bill."

Parkinson snorted. "He can afford it." She finished wrapping the golden cord around Ginny's torso and tied it in a complicated knot, then stood back and nodded in satisfaction. "Okay, let your hair down."

She complied and Parkinson clucked her tongue as Ginny's hair rippled down her back. "Parkinson, one more comment about the colour of my hair and I'll-"

"This is going to be good," Parkinson interrupted. She pulled the chair away from the desk. "Sit." She moved behind Ginny and began grabbing hanks of hair from the back of her head. Ginny could hear her whispered incantations and then the sections began tugging gently. Parkinson Summoned a box of hairpins and started fastening Ginny's hair on the top of her head. At last she choked Ginny with a cloud of mist from a bottle emblazoned with a Sleekeazy's logo and made her stand for inspection. "The sandals you were wearing before will have to do," she mused, tapping her jaw idly. "Your skirt will cover them. If only you had some sort of...ah, I've got an idea." She reached into her shopping bag and withdrew a silver armband embedded with a red gemstone. "The finishing touch."

"Oh, I can't," Ginny demurred.

"I don't have time to argue with you." Parkinson jammed the band onto Ginny's upper arm, ignoring Ginny's yelp of pain. "You'll have to do your own makeup."

"I can manage," Ginny said dryly. She walked into the bathroom to retrieve her cosmetics and gasped when she saw herself in the mirror. Parkinson had sculpted Ginny's hair into an elaborate updo garnished with small braids. The neckline of her dress was high and wide, gathering a bit on her shoulders. A panel of fabric draped artfully from one shoulder to her waist; her other arm was set off with the silver armband. The gold cord was wrapped from Ginny's ribs to hips in a striking pattern, and the skirt brushed the ground. She looked like an illustration from her Ancient History of Magic textbook. She honestly hadn't been expecting too much when she'd agreed to let Pansy dress her, given how much the other girl disdained her. Maybe all her talk about fashion design wasn't shameless self-promotion after all. Ginny drifted back into the room with her toiletry bag nearly forgotten in her hand. "Pansy, this is great," she said sincerely.

Pansy didn't look up from the suitcase she was digging through. "I know. Now get out and send Neville in."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Out."

Ginny opened the door to find Draco lounging on his bed and Neville looking sharp in navy dress robes. "Neville, she wants you next."

Neville's eyes widened when he caught sight of her. "Ginny, you look fantastic!" he cried. "She turned you into a goddess!"

Ginny felt herself blush. "Thanks!"

Draco snorted derisively.

"You don't agree, Malfoy?" Neville asked, a hard edge to his voice.

"As a matter of fact, I do not." Neville clenched his jaw and Ginny was so taken aback by Draco's rudeness that she decided not to step in between them. Draco looked Ginny up and down. "By saying Pansy turned her into a goddess, you imply that she did not look like a goddess before. You've got a lot to learn about complimenting women."

"Which one of us has a girlfriend again?" Neville shot back.

"NEVILLE! Get in here!" Pansy shrieked from the other room. She poked her head through the doorway. "What in the world are you wearing?"

Neville shuffled his feet. "I don't really want to wear a costume."

Pansy's eyes narrowed dangerously. "It's a _costume _party."

"Yeah, but not everyone's going to be in full costume, right?"

"Do you really want to stick out like a sore thumb?"

"Look, I just want to be comfortable."

"I do not have _time_ to argue with-"

"Do me next," Draco interrupted. He'd pulled the top sheet off his bed.

"You are _not_ getting a toga."

"Make me like her," he said, gesturing to Ginny. "I want to be a god."

"You can't be a god," Pansy sniffed.

"Why not?" Draco stared longingly at Ginny, and she couldn't help but flush under his scrutiny.

"You look better in long sleeves."

Draco tore his gaze away from Ginny to give Pansy a perplexed look. Pansy darted a glance at Neville, then sighed and tapped her forearm. A chill ran down Ginny's spine.

"So? Cover it."

"With what?"

"I don't know," he snapped, "_you're_ the costumer."

"Get in here, then," she snapped back and he jumped forward. "Neville, go find a laurel branch."

"What?"

"You will find a laurel branch or you will go to this party dressed as a pleasure boy. Do I make myself clear?"

Neville gulped. The door slammed shut.

"Awfully temperamental, isn't she?" Ginny remarked. "But she does great work, I'll give her that."

"She really does. You look incredible. Don't listen to Malfoy."

"I think he was actually agreeing with you, in a roundabout way. And if he wasn't, I'm ignoring him, because _I _know I look fabulous. You also look fabulous, by the way," she added.

He grinned and shrugged. "Pansy tailored it for me. The credit is hers once again. And on that note, I'd better go find a laurel branch. Are you hungry? I could bring back some food too."

"That would be great. Who knows how much longer this could take?"

Neville left and Ginny put on some makeup in the bathroom. After that, she had nothing left to do and wandered out onto the boys' balcony. The sun was setting and people were milling on the street below. Ginny soaked up the scenery and reflected again on how lucky she was to be standing where she was. The World Cup had been incredible. The hotel was beautiful. Her company was...not terrible. Pansy was tolerable when she wasn't out-and-out attacking her, and Neville's presence was a lovely surprise.

"Longbottom still gone?"

Ginny turned to find Draco behind her. He was dressed in a white gown fastened on one shoulder with the fabric looping under his opposite arm and falling to mid-calf in folds. He was bathed in the red glow of the sunset, and his hair shone pink as he cocked his head at her. His appearance startled her; she'd never seen him less than fully dressed. Even in Azkaban his shabby robes had covered him completely. Seeing his bare shoulder and arms now was somehow unnerving. She glanced at his left forearm, marred by the Dark Mark, and shivered. Draco crossed his arms quickly, looking self-conscious. "You look good," she assured him, embarrassed at being caught staring.

"Thanks," he muttered, avoiding her gaze.

"I mean it," she said firmly, and she reached out with both hands and grabbed his crossed forearms. He tensed under her touch. "Come watch the sunset with me," she cajoled, trying to gently pry his hands away from his elbows, making sure not to look down.

He allowed her to lead him to the banister but only relaxed his arms when they stood side by side looking out at the ocean. "She's thinking of something to cover it," he said at last.

"I know," Ginny replied softly.

He turned to her, the sunset highlighting his high cheekbones, pointed chin, and crooked nose, and his expression was so open and tormented that he could've been back in Azkaban. He seemed like he was about to say something, but instead he leaned on the banister and looked out towards the ocean once again.

"Neville's bringing back food for us," she said, trying to distract him from his thoughts.

"Neville," he echoed with a hollow chuckle. "I can't believe you didn't tell me he was with Pansy."

"I can't believe _Pansy_ didn't tell you. I thought you knew."

"Not until he showed up on my doorstep yesterday. And she gave me all the nauseating details while she was dressing me," he added, pulling a face. "You'd think he was _Witch Weekly's _Most Eligible Bachelor from the way she went on. She claims he's the best snog she's ever had, but she's obviously just saying that to get to me."

Ginny laughed. "Neville's a pretty great guy."

"She's wrong though, isn't she? About him being a better snog than me."

"How in Hades would I know?"

He sighed impatiently. "You've snogged us both?" he said as if the answer was obvious.

"You mean, I've snogged neither of you?" She hardly thought that Draco mauling her while crazed with fever counted. Besides, he hadn't been himself at the time. She was surprised that he even remembered.

He stared at her, looking incredulous and a bit hurt. "You don't remember?"

"Food's here!" Neville called from the doorway.

"Great! Neville, have we ever snogged?" Ginny asked.

Neville froze. "No," he said, darting a nervous glance at them.

"Told you," she sniffed. Draco shrugged in defeat and tried to casually hide his arm behind his back. "Let's eat."

Neville nodded and backed inside warily.

"This is too much!" Ginny exclaimed when she saw all the food Neville had brought back.

"Then we won't go hungry," he pointed out. "Spanakopita?"

"Yes, please!"

"There are so many people out there. It's a madhouse."

"I should've gone with you," she said. "There's so much to see."

"There were tour groups everywhere. Some guides were set up outside the hotel selling tickets for Athens and Atlantis."

"Atlantis! Oh, I've always wanted to see it," She'd been so focused on the World Cup that she'd forgotten that she would be in Greece. In Egypt, she'd seen the pyramids and gone on a Sphinx safari. She hadn't done any normal tourist things on this trip besides attending the game and suddenly wished that she was going on a tour instead of to the party. "I wish we had more time," she lamented, then flushed when she realised how ungrateful she sounded.

"No you don't," Draco broke in smoothly. "Atlantis is going to be overrun by tourists for the next two weeks, just like every other attraction in the country. Better to see it when it's not so crowded."

"I suppose," she muttered, knowing full well that I she didn't see it now she'd never see it at all.

"I've been there before," he said. Of course he had, she thought bitterly. "Trust me, it's best when there aren't other people around to ruin it."

She grunted noncommittally in response and he frowned and turned back to his plate.

The three of them ate in silence until Pansy sashayed into the room. "Well, what do you think?" she asked, striking a dramatic pose. She must've brought more than one corset on the trip because she had poured herself into a low-cut bustier banded with dragonhide and her cleavage couldn't be natural. Her short, pleated skirt looked more like armour than cloth, and she'd extended the ties on her new sandals and laced them all the way up her calves.

Draco burst out laughing. "I think you just broke Longbottom's brain!" Ginny looked over at Neville, who was gaping at Pansy and slowly turning red. "What are you supposed to be?"

"A Spartan, of course," she answered, smoothing back her hair. Her forearms were covered by dragonhide vambraces. "You owe me a new jacket, by the way. Look what I made you." She held up another vambrace.

"Ace," he declared, standing and holding out his arm so she could fit it.

"Tell me how good I look."

"You look absolutely amazing," Draco promised. "Even more beautiful than usual. Doesn't she, Longbottom?" he prompted.

Neville still looked a bit dazed. "Uh, yeah. Great. Perfect."

Draco laughed again. "You're alright, Longbottom," he said with a degree of affection that Ginny wouldn't have thought possible that morning.

"I've got this for you and Ginny," Pansy said, putting a small pot in Draco's palm.

"What is it?"

"Glitter."

"Thanks," Ginny said, surprised that Pansy was still thinking about her.

Draco held it gingerly at arm's length. "No."

"You're the one who wanted to be a god," she reminded him. "So shine."

"I'm not wearing glitter."

"Ginny, make sure you get his cheekbones," she said, taking Draco's abandoned seat. "Draco, get her back. I want glitter all up her neck."

Draco just blinked at her like she was a Jarvey singing Celestina Warbeck.

Ginny giggled and took the pot. "C'mon, Draco, let's get pretty."

"I'm not wearing glitter," he repeated, but he followed her into the bathroom.

"Poor Neville," Ginny said as she swiped a thin layer of the iridescent glitter across her forehead, down her nose, and over her cheeks. "She's going to attract a lot of attention if she goes out looking like that."

"No more than others."

"Do you have to be so contrary?" she sighed. She took more glitter and held out the pot to him. He wrinkled his nose. "To put on me, please?" He took it reluctantly and she went to work on her shoulders. When she felt his fingers take a slow, clumsy sweep across the back of her neck, she met his eyes in the mirror and smirked. "You're terrible at this."

He dropped his hand. "I'll get Pansy."

"I was just joking," she said with a roll of her eyes, but he was already striding out of the room.

He ran back in a moment later, locked the door behind him, and leaned on the counter, breathing heavily. "How good are you at memory charms?"

"You're just one big ball of melodrama today, aren't you?"

"What I just saw out there is going to give me nightmares."

"Oh, you're just jealous of Neville," she scoffed, smearing the back of her neck.

"Trust me, that's not it."

"Whatever you say." She turned her back to him. "Does that look okay?"

"You missed the bottom. I'll get it – unless you think I'm too incompetent."

"So touchy," she chided. As he touched up her back, she examined her reflection, turning back and forth to see the shimmer catch the light. "That looks okay, right?"

"Very lovely," the mirror chimed.

"I don't look ridiculous?"

"Not ridiculous at all," Draco said and there was no trace of a smile on his face so she believed him.

"Good. Your turn."

"No."

"Just a little bit," she wheedled, amused by the prospect. "Less than me." He shook his head obstinately. "Just a tiny bit on your face and a little bit on your shoulders."

"Forget it." He threw a calculating look at the door.

"But you have nice shoulders," she improvised. "You should show them off."

His eyebrows shot up. "Yeah?"

Ginny nodded earnestly, biting the inside of her mouth to keep from laughing. _When in doubt, bank on vanity_. "Just a little bit, see?" she said, holding up her fingers. He didn't say no so she brushed her fingers lightly over his shoulder; he flinched. "Sorry, is my hand cold?"

"No." He was watching her intently.

"It's going to be okay," she assured him as she rubbed the glitter in. "You don't have to look like I'm about to Bat-Bogey you."

He sighed and made a visible effort to relax under her touch. To her surprise, he even submitted when she tried to put it on his face, closing his eyes and remaining very still while she spread the barest amount over his cheekbones.

"Didn't even hurt, did it?" she asked, turning him around to face the mirror. "See, you can barely tell. You look good."

He scrutinised himself, then looked over at her. "Not as good as you."

"Well, no. You'd need a lot more glitter to look as good as me."

"Then I'll just let _you_ be the pretty one," he said with a smirk.

Ginny jerked her head at the door. "Do you think it's safe to go out there?"

"It may never be safe. We could conceivably be stuck in the loo forever." He thought for a moment. "I call the bathtub."

"It's all yours." Ginny opened the door. "I'm going to dream bigger."

Pansy was on Neville's lap with her arm looped around his neck. He was wearing a laurel crown and one hand was draped casually over her bare leg. When he caught sight of Draco, who had followed Ginny out of the bathroom, his eyes widened and he snorted with mirth, hiding his grin behind Pansy's shoulder.

"Ginny said I look good." Draco's tone was decidedly frosty.

"She's right," Pansy said.

"Where's my crown?" Draco asked her, gesturing towards Neville.

"You don't get one. Are you ready to go?"

"I want my crown!"

"That's nice," she said dismissively, sliding off of Neville's lap. "Shall we?"


	7. Bludger Backbeat

**A/N: **You know what's surprisingly difficult to write? Convincing tipsy people.

**Chapter Seven: Bludger Backbeat**

Neville felt like they were entering a temple during a Dionysian festival. Gleaming white pillars were draped with rich fabric, and reclining banquet couches were interspersed with more modern tables and chairs. The ceiling sparkled with light from a multitude of fairies. Crowds of witches and wizards were already out on the dance floor – and Neville was pleased to note that not _all_ of them were in full costume, though he didn't see the point of rubbing that fact in Pansy's face.

Draco's cousins knew how to throw a party.

_They_ were in full costume, of course – Angelo was Pan, complete with Transfigured goat legs and horns, and Niko was Eros, with large white wings that flexed and fluttered on command. His body, which was mostly bare, was covered in copious amounts of...glitter. Looking at them, Neville felt very grateful that Pansy hadn't forced him into a poncy costume. They seemed thrilled that Draco had showed up and once everyone had pantomimed appreciation of everyone else's outfits, they bellied up to the bar for drinks.

"Butterbeer?" Ginny asked the bartender and he gave her a blank look.

Niko laughed and started chatting with the bartender, who set about to work. On his other side, Angelo and Draco engaged a second bartender, and soon they all had drinks and were seated at a table. Neville's drink was the same as Niko's, a dark, opaque garnet with a tangy yet smoky taste. Pansy asked to taste it and then decided she liked it better than hers and left him with her fruity orange concoction, to everyone's amusement. Ginny's pale green drink was refreshing, a bit like Gillywater but mintier. He couldn't identify the honey-coloured liquid in Draco's and Angelo's glasses, but from the way they sipped it he gauged that it was strong stuff.

Draco and Angelo took off in French and Niko raised his glass towards Ginny. "Australie!" he cried.

"I'll drink to that!" she said and clinked glasses with him. "Merci pour...uh, the tickets," she finished in English, shrugging.

"Billets," Pansy supplied.

Niko grinned and dipped his head in acknowledgement.

"Your wings are incredible," Ginny said, miming to make herself understood. He rolled his shoulder and cocked one wing forward for her appraisal. "It's warm!" she exclaimed. "Ooooh, that's creepy! I can't imagine how he did that!" she said to Neville.

Pansy took a large swig of her drink and stood. "Who wants to dance?" She pulled Neville to his feet, and he went along without resistance. He hadn't been expecting a choice in the matter.

"Yes!" Ginny stood too. "Niko?" She started moving to the music and held out a hand to him, and he shook his head with an earnest smile and then elbowed Draco and started speaking to him.

"He says he has to make rounds and he'll join you later," Draco interpreted.

"You coming, Draco?" she asked, shimmying from side to side and reaching out for him.

"You lot go on," he said and resumed his conversation with Angelo.

Thus began a cycle of drinking and dancing. The girls were better dancers than Neville, which was no surprise to him. He knew he didn't dance well but he was having fun, and when he apologised to Pansy for his lack of skill, she said, "At least you're not a stick in the mud like Draco." Niko joined them periodically and made Neville look even worse by comparison.

The drinks were great, and so was the food when Neville deigned to take some. He danced so much that he started sweating, but Pansy didn't seem to notice when he took her in his arms. She moved like water, rubbing sinuously against him one moment and giving Ginny a twirl the next. Neville was happy that she wasn't shutting Ginny out, but he had to admit to himself that he liked it best when they were swaying together to the beat of the music and ignoring the rest of the world.

"So," Neville said to Ginny at one point when Pansy left them in line for drinks, "you and Malfoy, huh?"

She giggled, swaying a bit. "Yeah. Crazy, isn't it? If someone had told me this time last year that we'd end up being friends, well, I dunno, but...yeah, it's crazy."

"I...don't think he wants to be your friend," he said with as much delicacy as he could muster.

Ginny put a hand on her hip. "Now, you see, that's why I don't bother telling anyone we're friends. No one would believe it! All I'd hear is, 'He's a Death Eater, Ginny! He broke into your house, Ginny! He's a Death'...I said that one already. But that's all I'd hear. They don't know what he's really like. But you do," she said with an accusing look.

"He's a git," Neville said before he could stop himself.

"Well, of _course_ he is, and he's downright mad to boot." She got a conspiratorial look in her eyes and clawed on his robes until he bent his ear down to her mouth. "Don't tell anyone, but...he thinks I'm his mum." She released him and giggled. "Isn't that wild?"

"No he doesn't," he said with absolute certainty.

"It's true. That's how mad he is," she declared, waving her arms wildly. "But he's nice too, you know?"

"Now you _know _that's not true," he teased.

Her expression took on an earnest solemnity. "You saved my life during the battle. Remember?"

He didn't have to ask which battle she was talking about. "Yes," he said, remembering the moment that he had watched the crazed light leave Bellatrix Lestrange's eyes for good. It wasn't a pleasant memory.

"Draco saved me too, right before you did. He didn't even want me to fight, but when I did he protected me."

"Ginny, I know that it's absolutely none of my business, okay, none at all, but..." Neville hesitated, unsure of how to bestow his wealth of wisdom on her without alarming her. "I just don't want to see you get hurt, because you don't deserve that, and Malfoy...he could hurt you, I think."

"You're such a sweetheart," she cooed, hugging him.

He hugged her back. "I don't want you to get hurt," he said again, because that was the most important part of his message.

A second set of arms went around him. "Why are we hugging?" Pansy asked.

"Because we're friends and having a good time," Ginny said.

"Huh. Well, we're missing our drinks."

"Bugger the drinks," Ginny declared, disentangling herself. "Let's dance."

"Ugh, I need a break. My feet are killing me." Pansy turned beseeching eyes on Neville and tightened her hold. "You'll sit with me?"

"Of course."

"I'll go dance with Draco," Ginny said and she skipped off.

"Draco doesn't dance," Pansy said, but Ginny was already gone.

"You never know," Neville mused as Pansy stepped up to the bar. "She got him to wear _glitter_, for Merlin's sake." Malfoy looked like an utter poofter. Neville would never be able to thank Ginny enough for that bit of hilarity.

"Care to make a wager?"

"I don't have anything to bet."

She handed him his drink. "A kiss?"

"I'll give you that anyways."

She laughed and pulled him towards an empty lounge, and together they watched Ginny approach their table, where Draco and Angelo still sat with their glasses. Ginny tapped Draco on the shoulder. He turned to her and listened. He shook his head. She bent down over the table to talk to him.

"Oh, my feet," Pansy groaned, reclining beside Neville and propping her ankles up onto his. "I should've just worn the Pushkins."

"I think I'm going to win this bet," Neville said.

"You didn't bet anything!"

Niko appeared next to Angelo. Draco was leaning away from Ginny. Niko bowed to her and extended a hand like a courtier, and Ginny took it. As Niko led her out to the dance floor, he turned back to Draco, who hunched his back and looked away.

"I win!" Pansy said, clinking her glass to his. "So how about that kiss?"

"You'll get it in private," he said in her ear.

"Oooh, I can't wait." She snuggled up to him. "Look around, Neville." She waved her arm expansively, her drink nearly sloshing over the rim of her glass. "The fashion. The _beauty_ of it all. And you and me, together, doing whatever we want. This is the beginning. Things are going to be...incredible. Yeah, incredible. I can't wait. I don't _care _that we're going to be in different countries, we're going to see each other all the time, right?"

"All the time. Espeschify...especially if you look like this," Neville said, taking care to enunciate the words properly. This was definitely his last drink. "You look so good. Blokes have been watching you all night, and they look at you and then they look at me and they can't figure it out, how I've got someone like you."

"Oh, _Neville_, you know you're dead handsome."

"But they expect you with someone like those cousins. Y'know, naked."

Pansy giggled. "I'd _like_ to be with someone naked," she said, running her finger down his chest.

The rampant insinuation in her voice made him shiver and tighten his hold on her. "So I should go get some poncy wings then?"

"Oh no. They'd just get in the way." She took a sip of her drink. "Are you proud of me?"

"Yes. You look simply smashing."

"I know that," she giggled. "I meant about Ginny."

"Hmm?" He rubbed her shoulder absently. Her skin was so soft.

"You told me to be nice and I was. Don't you think I was?" She pursed her lips and Neville couldn't help but stare at her perfect Cupid's bow. "I dressed her. I danced with her."

"You were so nice," he murmured against her neck.

She startled him by cackling. "No. No, not nice at all. I was _wicked_. Just nice to her. And you. Always you. Mmm, I like being nice to you."

"Me too. I mean, you being nice to me. You look so good tonight."

Pansy hummed tonelessly and patted his stomach. Oh, her touch felt good. "Dance with me?"

"That's a great idea."

She slid to her to her feet and threw him a coy smirk over her shoulder before strolling away, her hips swaying. He sat and admired the view until the crowd swallowed her up. Yes, dancing was a spiffing idea. Now to get to her before the vultures surrounding the dance floor did.


	8. Woollongong Shimmy

**Chapter Eight: Woollongong Shimmy**

Niko twirled Ginny and then pulled her close as he continued to gyrate to the music. Ginny relished the feel of his body against hers and sneaked a hand under his wings to brave a feel of the taut muscles of his bare back. Draco's cousin was gorgeous. His dark hair gleamed under the fairies' light and his torso was lithe and defined. His smile was infectious, he was fun to be around, and he was a terrific dancer. Ginny tallied up all of his assets with a mental sigh and wished that she spoke French. For the first time in a long while, she _wanted_. Every time he touched her she wanted to purr with contentment and she felt herself glowing whenever he was near.

At the end of the song he took his leave of her – he was always _doing_ that – so she decided to take a break from the dance floor and went to get another drink. She weaved back to their table and stumbled into the seat beside Draco, the only person there. She was pretty sure he hadn't moved the entire night. "Do you ever have any fun at all?" she asked.

He swung his head around and fixed his bleary gaze on her. "Ah, Gin," he lamented, "I c'nt...oh." His hand fell on her knee and he squeezed. "Been drinkin'."

"You don't say," she giggled. "Are you and Angelo having a contest?"

He frowned in concentration, as if processing the question took all of his energy. "No...'s my cousin."

"Where is he?"

"Loo."

He looked...well, droopy was the only word for him. He wasn't going to last the night, she realised with amused pity. "How are you feeling?"

"Good." His head lolled to one side until it landed on Ginny. "Got family."

"You should eat something. Let's go get some food, okay?"

She felt him shake his head on her shoulder. "Can't stand, Gin. Can't."

He was in terrible shape. He shouldn't have been left alone. "Oh, Draco," she sighed, putting an arm around him protectively. "Draco, my son. Draco, my mad wee son." He was warm and boneless against her, like an oversized Puffskein. She closed her eyes in contentment, not caring if she didn't move again all night. "Poor dear." She rocked him a bit until she decided that the motion was making her ill. "You want to go lay down, don't you?"

He exhaled deeply. "Yesh."

She had a mission. She blinked hard to clear her head and tried to decide how to get Draco to bed. It took longer than she'd expected to think of the answer. "I'll go find Neville and Pansy and then we can go."

"No." His hand flopped against her thigh, then her breast, and then he finally made it to her shoulder. "Don' go."

"Shhh. It'll be okay." She spied Angelo clinging to the wall a few metres away with a look of intense concentration on his face. He lifted one goat leg, let it hover, and then planted it slowly. It probably wasn't the best costume for a night of drinking. "I'm going to help Angelo," she told Draco, who groaned. She transferred his head to the tabletop and went to Angelo, who accepted her outstretched hand gratefully and fell into his seat. "I'll get Niko for you, okay?" she told him. "Get Niko?"

Angelo gave her a weary nod and poked Draco's head. Draco didn't move.

Neville and Pansy were on the outskirts of the dance floor, swaying to the music. Neville looked like the epitome of cool in his dress robes and laurel crown, lost to the music with his arms slung casually around Pansy's waist. Ginny felt like she was intruding on a private moment, despite the crush of people around them, but she broke in anyways. Draco needed them. "We've got to go," she said over the music. "Draco's passed out."

Neville looked slightly exasperated. "Can't hold his liquor?"

"He's in a bad way. We've got to get him out of here."

"Alright, alright, we'll take the _stupid twat_ home," Pansy spat, her eyes unfocussed.

"Have you seen Niko?"

Pansy pointed to the centre of the dance floor and Ginny immediately caught sight of Niko's wings. "I'll go get him – you go to Draco."

She weaved through the dance floor, bumping into people left and right. Niko was dancing with a sultry raven-haired witch in a filmy dress. When Ginny tapped him on the shoulder, he gave her a mischievous look, wagged his finger at her – naughty, naughty – and turned his back on the other witch, sidling up to Ginny. The witch gave Ginny a dirty look and melted into the crowd and Ginny _meant_ to tell Niko about Angelo and Draco straight away, but he was undulating to the music in front of her, glitter emphasising the play of muscles across his abdomen, and she couldn't resist one last dance. Knowing that this was the end made her more brazen and she threw herself fully into the dance, rolling up against him and waving her hands in the air before letting them fall to his perfect chest. He was guiding her by her waist, his touch dulled by the idiotic corset she was wearing, and she found herself alternately closing her eyes to savour the bittersweetness of it all and opening them again because she couldn't bear to look away.

The song ended all too soon and as the final chords faded away Niko looked down at her, his dark eyes glittering with intensity, his hands lingering at her waist. _Just kiss me already_, she thought desperately, and nearly took the initiative herself, but then the next song started and he began dancing again. Ginny salivated at the prospect of another last dance, but that train of thought was derailed with a sharp stab of guilt – Draco needed her, and she'd wasted enough time as it was. "Niko." She grabbed his arms to get his attention, and when he'd stopped dancing, she said, "It's Draco and Angelo. They need to leave." Niko raised a sceptical eyebrow, likely not understanding what she was trying to say, but after some brief miming he got the gist, put a long-suffering expression on his face, and followed her back to the table. Angelo was sprawled in one chair and Pansy in another. "Where's Draco?" Ginny asked.

"Neville took him to the little boys' room," Pansy snorted. "Gah, my feet are _killing_ me."

Ginny watched Niko swing one of Angelo's arms across his shoulders and haul the satyr to his feet...er, hooves. "We ready?" Neville asked from behind her and she saw that he was holding Draco up in much the same manner. He looked to be sleeping on Neville's shoulder.

"That was so nice of you to take him to the loo," Ginny said.

Neville rolled his eyes. "He definitely owes me." Draco started to slump forward and Neville hoisted him up again.

"Neville!" Pansy whined from her seat. "You have to help me walk! My feet are _killing_ me!"

"I'm kind of busy," he told her.

"Just Levitate the stupid prat! I'm your girlfriend! You don't even like him! Neville!"

"She's not going to shut up, is she?" Ginny groaned. "Here, I'll take him."

"He's heavy," Neville warned.

"Neville, my feet are _killing _me!"

"Slag off, Parkinson! We hear you!" Ginny snapped. She ducked under Draco's free arm and grabbed him by the waist. "Draco? Wake up. We're going to go home now and put you to bed."

His eyelids fluttered and he leaned against her with a sigh.

"That's a good lad," she crooned, brushing back his fringe. "Okay, Neville, go to her." Neville slipped away.

"Gin," Draco breathed.

"We're going to get you some fresh air. Come on," she said and tried to take a step forward, but nearly lost her balance as Draco sagged heavily instead of stepping with her. "I'm not sober enough for this!" she moaned. "Draco, I can't drag you. You have to walk!"

They eventually worked out a system where Ginny and Niko supported Draco, Niko and Neville supported Angelo, and Pansy clung to Neville's arm and screeched about her aching feet every few steps or so. Progress was slow but steady, and they were well on their way down the street when Niko suddenly let out a scream of pain and started hopping on one foot, then lost his balance and landed with a howl on one of his wings in the middle of the road.

"What in the-?" Ginny didn't have time to ask her question as Draco swayed dangerously and she grabbed him in a bear hug to keep him from going down, too. Niko had started shouting a furious stream of Greek, leaping back to his feet and jabbing his finger accusingly in Angelo's face.

"Stepped on his foot with his hoof," Neville explained.

Niko examined his elbow, which was skinned, sighed in exasperation, took out his wand and aimed it unsteadily at the wound, then sighed again and pocketed it. He glanced about the street and suddenly his eyes lit up. Hasty arm movements made his meaning clear – stay, I'll be right back – and he ducked into a nearby store.

"Oh, you have _got _to be joking," Ginny muttered, rearranging her hold on Draco.

"Stop, Gin," he complained as she wrenched his arm, but he remained limp as a Flobberworm.

"Then stand up," she hissed.

"Oh, my feet!" Pansy cried.

Niko was back soon enough with two tiny bottles. He uncorked one, handed it to Ginny and indicated that she should feed it to Draco, then limped over to Angelo with the other one. An acrid smell wafted from the bottle. This wasn't going to be good. Ginny wavered for a moment, then decided that Niko wouldn't intentionally harm his relatives. "Draco? Draco, you need to drink this."

It was that simple. He opened his mouth, trusting as a child, and she held the bottle to his lips and tilted. Almost instantaneously, Draco started choking and pushing away from her. He staggered a few steps away and spat on the ground. "You trying to kill me?" he slurred. "Bloody vile." He spat again.

"Oh, thank Merlin," she said in relief. "You can walk." She looked over at Angelo, who was undergoing a similar transformation. "Niko, you're a...Draco, tell Niko that he's a genius."

"He can fuck right off," Draco mumbled, swaying on his feet.

"Merci, Niko," Ginny said.

"Let's _go_!" Pansy cried. "My feet are _killing _me!"

"We can only hope," Ginny muttered under her breath.

Draco stumbled sideways. "Where we going?"

"To bed," she sighed, her arm going back around his waist. He made a surprised noise and reciprocated. The rest of their walk back to the hotel went much more smoothly, although the faster pace made Pansy whine more.

Once they were standing outside the hotel, Angelo said something to Draco and the two fell into a drunken embrace, replete with back-patting and whispering. Niko shook Neville's hand and clasped Pansy's. Then he turned to Ginny and time slowed. It was so unfair that they lived in different countries, that they had no common language, that every possibility had to remain unexplored. She couldn't even thank him properly for awakening that part of her that had been slumbering, forgotten deep inside her since her explosive falling-out with Harry and Hermione last year. Niko opened his arms to her with a soft smile and as she flew into them, she summoned up her Gryffindor courage and kissed him.

Her lips contacted him just before she felt _his_ lips brush her cheek. That wasn't right, wasn't what she'd intended. By the time she figured out what he'd done, he'd kissed her other cheek and was drawing back from her. "À bientôt, Australie," he said fondly, his wings fluttering. Ginny could hardly bear the sweet ache in her chest. "À bientôt." Then he winked at her and went to prise Draco and Angelo apart. Whatever he said to them made Draco scowl and punch him halfheartedly in the shoulder.

"We're going!" Pansy announced and left on Neville's arm with waves in Angelo's direction.

Ginny lingered, not wanting to leave Niko before she had to. He was still speaking to Draco. Draco's impassive gaze flickered to Ginny momentarily and her heart leapt – was he talking about her? But Draco didn't translate anything and all too soon his cousins were walking away.

"You waited for me," Draco said, his arm going around her again.

"Couldn't have you getting lost." She yawned and leaned against him, his presence calming the ache in her. "Let's go."

Neville and Pansy were bickering in the hallway outside their rooms. "...own fault, really, I don't see why you can't for once-" Pansy broke off in a yelp. "They're here!" And then both of them were gone, Pansy's giggle echoing in the hallway.


	9. Transylvanian Tackle

**Chapter Nine: Transylvanian Tackle**

"You really shouldn't-"

"Too late!" Pansy threw the door's bolt and turned back to Neville. "It's our room now."

"But Ginny-"

"No more _words_," Pansy growled, backing him up against the wall, "about the Widow Potter."

Neville looked down away from her menacing glare. All this did was give him an eyeful of her cleavage. He hoped that the fashion world was full of fancy dress parties. He was going to ask her to dress up as a Spartan for every one of them. "I...uh..."

"That's better. Now, then," she said, dancing away from him and throwing herself down on a bed, "would you _please_ help me out of my shoes? My feet are killing me." She raised her knees straight up in the air and waved her calves coquettishly.

"I can..." Neville cleared his throat as he approached slowly. "I can see your knickers when you do that." _Planting tentacula amongst trumpeting daffodils allows the former to break soil with ease and acidifies the soil adequately for the latter_, he recited silently. _Potted afferburrs require periodic infusions of boron..._

"Is that a problem?" she asked with a bat of her eyes, lifting her knees higher until he had an unobstructed view of her lace-covered – Neville averted his gaze.

"Pansy," he said reproachfully, reaching out blindly for a foot.

An ankle landed in his hand. "Don't like the show, is that it? Look, I know my bum's not perfect but it's got quite a nice shape to it, I'll have you know."

He braced her foot against his stomach and reached up to her knee to fumble with the tie. "You know I like the show," he said, trying mightily not to think about what 'the show' entailed. _Mandrakes should be repotted every two-_

"But you aren't _looking_!"

"I'm taking off your shoes first." Her calves were distracting enough, warm and smooth and shapely. He managed to slip the sandal off and she sighed rapturously. "Be good," he warned her as he went for her other foot.

She dug her bare ankle against his arse in an attempt to hook her leg around his waist. "I'm never good."

_For maximum potency, gillyweed should be harvested at...oh, bugger it. _She was grinning up at him slyly, one arm pillowing her head. When she saw he was finally looking at her, her smile turned downright smug and she crooked a finger at him. She was temptation itself stretched out beneath him and she knew it. "You're so beautiful," he said hoarsely, pawing ineffectually at her shoe before bracing his knees against the mattress and leaning over her.

"I do try. You promised you'd kiss me, Neville."

He didn't need to be told twice.

She was tiny and perfect, so much smaller than him that even now he still worried sometimes that he would hurt her, despite her protestations. Kissing her was easily his all-time favourite activity, but it took on new dimensions as he remembered that she'd _locked the door_. For the first time in memory, they were truly alone with no danger of interruption. He savoured the feeling of her skin under his hands, moving his hand as slowly as he pleased up her silky thighs. The smoky tang of her drinks lingered in her mouth as she kissed him with abandon, then suddenly shoved him in the shoulder.

He dropped his hand immediately. "What?" he muttered.

"Roll over!" she demanded, so he did, and she clambered on top of him with a distinct lack of grace. Neville felt his mouth go slack with surprise and, yes, another thrill of excitement as she settled over his pelvis. "Today," she declared, delving under the collar of his robes, "was amazing."

"Yes," he hissed, barely restraining himself from arching up towards her. Then he felt her nails on his bare chest and rocked against her arse, just a little. The bit of sweet friction he generated made them both gasp.

"Wanna do something for you," she whispered in his ear and started to slide down his body.

He shivered and bucked again as her movements sent another shock of pleasure through him. Locked doors were the most wonderful thing in the world, he decided, and when he came back to his senses, she was kneeling between his thighs.

"You'll love this," she promised, her hands moving to his waist, and she – oh.

Oh, she was opening his trousers. This – well, it was something he'd thought about, sure, wouldn't any wizard? But he hadn't really expected – oh Merlin, he was going to embarrass himself. Neville dug his fingers into the coverlet, his breath coming in shallow pants. Pansy didn't seem to notice and went about her business with a calm langour. _This is really happening_, he thought with a wild mixture of exhilaration and apprehension as she jostled him slightly. _This is real_.

And then Pansy stopped dead. "Oh, _Neville_," she murmured.

The reproach in her voice startled him. His eyes flew open – he didn't remember closing them – but all he could see was the top of her head. "What?" he asked, dread taking hold in his chest. Had he already...? Was that even possible?

She looked up at him, her eyes slitted like a basking cat's. "You never told me."

Was there something wrong with him? Every nagging doubt he'd ever had growing up reared up at once. "What?"

"You're soo _thick_," she purred before bending down over him again.

Neville felt his cheeks burn and he couldn't stop from grinning. "What?" he said for the third time, feeling a bit lightheaded.

"I couldn't tell through clothes." She traced a finger along his length and he made an embarrassingly strangled sound. "I hardly know what to do with you."

That should've tempered his pride, but it didn't. He knew he was still grinning like a loon. Still, if she needed time to, er, get used to him, he didn't want to rush anything. "You don't-"

"It'll feel so good," she crooned, bending even lower over him. "You'll love it."

The surreality of the situation was making his head spin. _This is really happening_. He wanted to hold her, to kiss her, but the only part of her within reach was her hair. "What...?" he started hoarsely. He licked his dry lips. "What should I do?"

"Enjoy," she whispered, her breath breaking hot and moist against him.

He took fresh handfuls of the coverlet and stared up at the ceiling, trying to calm himself, but it was hard when she continued to tease him with her breath. He heaved a deep breath and blew it out slowly, but the anticipation kept winding him up until his limbs shook and his knuckles ached from their grip. One of her hands slipped to his thigh. "You're killing me, Pansy," he ground out, and she punched his leg weakly. He chuckled in spite of himself. "I'm not complaining," he fibbed and she punched him again. "Ow!" he laughed. "Alright!" He looked down at her then.

Pansy was gaping up at him, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly, her eyes wide with terror. One hand was balled up in a fist on his leg and the other was clenching the neckline of her dress, every muscle in her arm straining. "Pansy!" he cried, struggling to sit up. She shot him a pleading look and started to claw at her back, still crumpled over with her chest on her knees. It took Neville a moment to process what he was seeing. _The corset_. "Oh, Merlin." She gave a tiny gasp – much too small and too weak – and tears started leaking from her eyes as Neville leapt into action. He found himself behind her, hauling her upright by her shoulders with his knees on either side of her to support her. "Hold on," he muttered, as much to himself as to her. _She's dying_. He couldn't unfasten her dress, and in a fit of panic he ripped the fabric between the leather panels clean to her waist. _She's going to kill me for that. _"Hold on, Pansy, hold on," he chanted grimly as he was confronted by the confounding lacing of her corset. There was no way he'd be able to release it quickly enough – she was struggling for every small gasp of breath as in was. He grabbed on either side of a seam and heaved, but the stout fabric held fast. Grimacing, he reached into his pocket for his wand. Everyone knew you weren't supposed to mix magic and alcohol; Great-Uncle Algie had told him so many horrifying stories that he'd been nervous the first time he'd practiced his charms hours after hitting up the Three Broomsticks. He hesitated, and then Pansy made a horrible gasping sound and the decision was made. He wedged his fingers as best he could between her back and the corset. _Steady on, just a small one._ "_Diffindo_!"

The top of the lacing snapped and Neville dropped his wand and yanked the ties free from the top loops, not stopping until he felt Pansy take a huge, shaky breath. "Alright?" he asked, his heart racing.

"I'm so bloody stupid," she mumbled and then started crying.

He dropped his head to her shoulder – he was suddenly exhausted – and held her close. "You gave me a scare, love."

"I j-just wanted everything to be spe-ecial!" she sobbed.

"Shh." For a while he simply held her, gratified that she was safe, and then he chanced to look down at the corset. He'd ruined it with a slash straight through the fabric. He pulled it down to reassure himself that her back was unmarked. "I broke your corset."

"Bother," she said through the last of her tears. "I liked this one."

"I'm sorry. I'll buy you a new one."

She dismissed this with a wave of her hand. "I feel like absolute shite," she sighed.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Do you have a Time-Turner?" she quipped weakly, turning towards him. Black tracks ran down her face from her puffy eyes.

"Sorry, didn't think to pick one out before I destroyed the Department of Mysteries. Can you walk? You probably want to wash up before bed."

She buried her face in her hands. "I'm so sorry."

"For nearly dying? Don't be." He got to his feet and tried to arrange his clothing. The seat of his trousers was ripped clean through.

"Oh, I wouldn't have died," she scoffed, reaching back to pick the remainder of the laces out of her corset. "Fainted, probably. So bloody stupid, panicking like that, but then I couldn't get up again and things just got worse and...so stupid. I shouldn't have tightlaced myself in, but I'd run out of dragonhide for the dress..." She sighed and pulled the ruined garments over her head with a wince, leaving her in naught but her lacy knickers. "How are _you_ feeling, by the way? It's bad form to get a bloke all worked up like that and leave him hanging, I know."

"Hmm? Oh, I- I'm fine." He'd nearly forgotten about it.

"You're so cute when you blush," she sighed, struggling to her feet with his help and looking a bit queasy. She kicked off her remaining sandal and stumbled to the bathroom.

"I'll find your nightgown," he said.

"Don't bother trying," she called back. "It's probably buried."

He stripped down to his underclothes while she washed and was already in bed by the time she emerged. "Ugh, I feel like utter shite," she said, crawling into bed beside him and rolling her back into his chest.

"Let's sleep," he suggested, grabbing her waist and drawing closer, her bare skin making the action all the more intimate.

"I really did want tonight to be special," she said.

"It was," he assured her. "I had a good time."

"You know what I mean. First night alone and all that."

Neville yawned. "We've got the rest of our lives. Soon I'll have my own place and you'll have yours. This," he said drowsily, sweeping his palm across her bare stomach, "this is special too."


	10. Wronski Feint

**Chapter Ten: Wronski Feint**

Ginny rattled the doorknob to her room. "Bloody bint locked me out!" Her annoyance at Pansy blossomed into anger. "Neville!" She raised her fist to pound on the door.

Draco caught her wrist gently. "Ginny."

"I'll kick her skinny arse!"

He stumbled between her and the door, still holding her wrist. His other hand went to her shoulder and he peered at her with heavy-lidded eyes. "Do it tomorrow."

"And what do you suggest I do tonight?"

He tugged her away from the door. "Stay with me."

She considered that. Yes, it was a good idea. She could rest tonight and catch that cow Pansy unawares tomorrow. "Yeah, I'll kip with you," she decided and let him steer her into his room.

Draco closed the door and staggered into her. "D'you see?" he said drowsily, throwing his arms around her to steady himself. "I take care of you." He was delightfully warm. "I always take care of you, Ginny," he mumbled into her ear, tightening his embrace.

It was true, she realised. He'd come to warn her about the Death Eater attack on her home, he'd tried to save her from the final battle, he'd fallen for her in the final battle, and he'd comforted her afterwards when the whole world had gone grey. In a short year, Draco had become one of her best friends. She hugged him back fiercely. "You're good to me. Let me take care of you now," she said, and walked him backwards until his legs hit his bed. "Rest. I'll be back straightaway."

She went to the loo and when she emerged he was standing in front of his suitcase, facing the balcony. He grasped his gown below the waist in both hands and Ginny only had time to gasp in alarm before he pulled it up and over his head.

He wasn't starkers, thank Merlin; he'd been wearing a pair of shorts underneath. Ginny snapped her gaze to the floor, trying to ignore what she'd seen in the dim light and give him a chance to put some clothes on. She heard the rustling of fabric. _What if the shorts were next?_ Panic made her look up again and she was relieved to find that he was simply rummaging through his suitcase, oblivious to her presence. Watching him was making her acutely uncomfortable. Would it be best to hide out in the bathroom until he finished? Did she have to remind him that she was still in his room? What if the shorts were still next? Ginny couldn't take the tension anymore. "Oh, c'mon," she scoffed.

Draco started at the sound of her voice and glanced at her over his shoulder.

"Get dressed already."

In response, he raised an eyebrow at her, hooked his thumb into his waistband, and pulled the fabric away from his hip.

Ginny's breath caught. He was about to embarrass himself. "Put that away, Malfoy, I don't need to see it."

The shorts snapped back to his waist. "Can't fly," he muttered with an ugly sneer that shocked Ginny until she remembered just how drunk he was. He pressed his lips together and turned back to his suitcase, selecting a sleeveless undershirt. After he pulled it on, he turned to her and thrust out a set of blue lounging pyjamas with a yawn. "Here."

"Oh, thanks," she said. The material was heavy and soft. "It'll be nice to get out of this corset."

Draco climbed onto his bed. "You shouldn't wear those. Blokes don't like 'em."

"Blokes liked me just fine in it," she said, feeling belligerent. "Niko didn't have any complaints. And they seem to work out fine for Pansy – first you, then Neville." He was scowling now, and she reminded herself not to make him too angry; there was nowhere else to sleep. "I'll just go change," she demurred.

Draco's head flew back with a rude snort, and the momentum propelled him flat on his back. "You'll never get it off yourself."

"Pansy does."

"She has _practice_," he enunciated slowly, throwing his arm up over his eyes. "But don' let me stop yeh."

Two minutes later, Ginny had to concur with his assessment. Even with the mirror's advice, she could barely access the knot and she hadn't been able to do much more than touch it with her torso bound as it was. When her arm started to cramp up from its contortions, she finally admitted defeat and slunk shamefully out of the bathroom with one hand clutching her dress up to her waist to find Draco in the same position she had left him in. "You're right," she sighed. No response. "Draco?" She grabbed his arm and hauled it off his face, and he squinted against the soft light.

"Wassuh?"

"Would you please untie me?"

He dragged himself into a sitting position with some effort and flung his bare legs over the side of the bed. "Here," he said, patting the space between his thighs unsteadily.

She turned and lowered herself slowly, taking great care that her dress would remain at its present level. Underneath the Transfigured sheet, she was wearing what she mentally referred to as 'dress knickers', soft and lacy concoctions that gave her a bit of extra confidence when she needed it and generally made her feel more fabulous than usual. Draco's disdain over the corset had been bad enough. She definitely didn't want his opinion on the rest of her undergarments. After a bit of rearranging, she was perched gingerly on the mattress, mesmerized by Draco's hairy thighs. She watched his muscles bunch as he shifted position and then they went slack and his hands were low on her back. She tried to tear her eyes off his legs and found that she couldn't. It was ridiculous – she could feel the heat coming off of them more acutely than she could feel him tugging at the corset.

The pressure around her torso rapidly faded in an upward motion, as if a layer of herself had been stripped away. She managed to clutch the corset to her chest with her free arm before it dropped away and took a deep, experimental breath. "Oh, that's much – oh!"

Draco's hands were on her bare back, long fingers digging into her skin beside her spine. After hours of compression, the stimulation felt wonderful and she sighed in pleasure and arched her back until their shoulders were touching. Now he was kneading the flesh on her hips and she wondered idly if the dress had slipped, making no effort to check. She clasped his thigh for balance as he went to work on her ribs. The soft hairs on his leg tickled her fingers and his hands spanned her ribcage easily and the sheer _maleness_ of him assaulted her senses. Dear Merlin, she'd missed men. She needed one of her own. Why, _why_ didn't she speak French? "That feels so good," she moaned as he returned to the small of her back.

"Yeah," he whispered.

She didn't want him to ever stop. "You're very good at this."

"Used to do it for Pansy," he slurred into her ear, and his hot breath broke against her skin and fanned down her throat.

Ginny shivered at the sensation, but the mention of the snake next door soured her mood and she broke away from him, clutching the corset and the dress carefully. "I'm not Pansy," she informed him primly.

"I know that. Don't worry," he added, his voice sounding bitter, "a Malfoy never makes the same mistake twice."

"I should hope not. Pansy's with Neville now, if you hadn't noticed."

His expression turned downright stormy. "It's a family trait, then?"

"What?"

"Your brother's a dim-witted ass, too."

"This _dim-witted ass_ carried you home when your so-called friend wanted to Levitate you into the nearest wall," she hissed, finally fed up with his drunken cantankerousness and stung by the vitriol behind his words.

"Want a biscuit?" he asked snidely. "Or something else?"

"Argh!"

"You can't keep doing this to me," he snarled.

"I can't keep doing this to _you_?" she cried incredulously. "Fine. Whatever, Malfoy." She couldn't be bothered to continue this non-conversation. It made as much sense as talking to a petulant three-year-old. With as much dignity as she could muster with her clothes half off, she waltzed into the bathroom, locked the door, and let her clothes drop to the floor. She glanced at the pyjamas still folded neatly on the countertop and for a moment she thought she'd rather go naked than wear anything from Draco. What was his problem? "Stupid drunk idiot," she muttered aloud, but it didn't make her feel any better. She couldn't even articulate what, precisely, made her so angry. All she knew was that she didn't deserve his wrath. She jumped at a heavy crash from the bedroom; something fragile had definitely smashed. That only made her more angry. She wanted to march back in there and scream at him, but he'd probably just laugh at her. No, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing he was hurting her. She blinked back tears of frustration as she yanked his pyjamas on. _Leave it to Malfoy to ruin a perfect day_. On second thought, she _was_ going to march back out there and give him a piece of her mind. Hadn't he been talking earlier about what good friends they were? Well, friends didn't treat each other the way he was treating her. She flung the bathroom door open and stomped into the bedroom.

Draco was sprawled on his bed, out cold, and the floor between the beds was wet and littered with shards of crystal and the calla lilies that had been on the shared nightstand. Ginny clenched her fists in impotent rage as she surveyed the scene and nearly took a flying leap onto his bed to make sure he'd hear her if she screamed. She wasn't sure if it was all the broken glass underfoot that stopped her or the sight of Draco's unfurrowed brow as he breathed deeply through parted lips. As his chest rose and fell, she spied the glitter still shimmering on his shoulder and felt even more conflicted. _Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus_, she thought wryly, and decided that he was a more appealing roommate when unconscious. "You make no sense, Malfoy," she muttered to him as she skirted the mess he'd made and climbed into bed.


	11. Porskoff Ploy

**Chapter Eleven: Porskoff Ploy**

The incessant pounding on the door roused Neville out of his stupor.

"Make it stop," Pansy moaned. He was curled around her with his hands full of delectable bare skin. So good. He tightened his hold but the noise wouldn't let him relax. Reluctantly, he pressed a kiss to her shoulder and rolled out of bed. He located his ruined trousers and struggled into them – they were better than nothing. Satisfied that he was as decent as someone pounding relentlessly on his door could hope for, he staggered towards the noise, opened the door a crack, and stuck his head out.

He wasn't sure whom he'd expected to be on the other side of the door, but it certainly wasn't Draco, dressed in fresh robes with his damp hair slicked back from his face. Cleanliness was about the only thing Draco had going for him; there were dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, his skin had an unhealthy grey tinge to it, and he wasn't standing quite upright. Still, considering that he'd very nearly pissed on Neville's shoes hours ago, he was doing well for himself. He peered owlishly at Neville – or maybe it was a glare – and thrust Neville's suitcase at him. "I want Ginny's things," he rasped.

_Ginny_. "Uh, right, okay," he stammered, feeling supremely guilty, and shut the door in Draco's face. He threw the clothes that she'd been wearing yesterday into her bag and then glanced about the room. He wasn't sure whose things were on the desk and there was no way he'd be able to figure out the bathroom. Still, clothes were a good start. He bit his lip in consternation, trying to decide if Draco picking up her belongings was a good sign or a bad one.

He closed up the bag and opened the door again. Draco looked supremely perturbed. "You tosser! You could at least let me in!"

"Pansy's still asleep," he hissed, handing over the bag.

"So?" It was a wonder that he could look so arrogant and sickly at the same time.

"So, she's..."

Draco sighed in exasperation. "It's not like I haven't seen her tits before."

The door slammed noiselessly in Draco's face. Neville rubbed his eyes, fighting down a wave of revulsion. The day was getting off to an entirely wrong start. He supposed that was nothing he couldn't rectify. With a yawn, he doffed his trousers and dove back under the blankets.

"Who was it?" Pansy mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

"Malfoy."

"What did he want?"

"Just being a giant prat."

"That sounds right," she sighed as his hand skated up her ribcage and covered one small breast.

He'd intended to go back to sleep and start the day anew without Draco to ruin it, but he suddenly found that sleep didn't much interest him. "I could get used to this," he said, laying his cheek against hers.

"Good," she replied with a cat-like stretch against him, "because I'm not letting you sleep on the chesterfield at my flat. Or yours."

He chuckled. "Well, as long as we're here _now_, there's something I wouldn't mind trying before breakfast."

"Yeah?" She rolled towards him, a smile playing on her lips. "What's that?"

* * *

The room was suffused with a soft yellow light. She smoothed the patchwork quilt of her childhood over a bed that was not hers. Her copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_, positively ragged after being well-loved by other children, was on a nightstand. She smiled. "How's that?" she asked the dark-haired boy lounging by the window.

"It's perfect," he told her, and shimmering white wings burst out of his back. "As are you, my sweet"

_Ginny._ Her name rang in her head.

Her first thought was that someone had carpeted her mouth while she'd slept. She opened her eyes a crack and saw Draco watching her, his head cocked to one side. "What?" she croaked.

"It's time to wake up. You weren't exaggerating about your snoring."

She glanced at the clock and groaned. "Too early," she declared, throwing the covers over her head.

The bed shook traitorously under her and caved to one side. "If you get up now you won't have to rush."

"Go away."

"Not if you're just going back to sleep."

The air under the covers was turning stuffy. "Wait a minute – how can you possibly be awake?"

"I'm a light sleeper. You snore."

She threw the covers off her head. "I kept you up?"

Draco was sitting on the bed next to her, wearing a smug expression and looking positively haggard. "Of course not. But you're awake now, aren't you?"

"You bastard," she said without rancour.

"Are you always this cheerful in the morning?"

"Are you?" she shot back. "Or do you need a particularly bad night to turn you into such a ray of sunshine?"

"I'm a morning person."

"Well, you'd never know it by looking at you. You look awful."

"Have I ever told you how much I admire your tact?"

"How do you feel?"

"Drunk," he admitted, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

"Still?"

He nodded serenely before resting his cheek on his palm, his hair falling into disarray.

"Well, you're a much nicer drunk now than you were last night."

"Yeah?"

"Oh, definitely. You were right nasty, falling down and uncooperative, and the things you said to me, well-"

"What?" His voice was perfectly calm, but there was a tension in his frame that hadn't been there a moment ago. "What did I say to you?"

Ginny waved her hand airily, although the memory still stung a bit. "Oh, you told me how stupid I was, how everything I do is wrong...this was before you destroyed the room and passed out, mind."

"I..." His mouth hung open as he stared at her, clearly at a loss for words. "I don't think you're stupid," he said at last, very quietly.

"What a relief!" she cried, laying the back of her hand against her forehead in a theatrical display. "Your obnoxious drunken ramblings had me wondering."

He rolled his eyes and glanced away, his expression sour. "I didn't mean whatever I said, okay?" he snapped. "_Merlin_."

"Was that supposed to be an apology?"

"Maybe!"

"Maybe I'd accept it if you weren't yelling it at me_._"

Draco raked his hand through his hair, looking more agitated by the second. "Look, can we just forget about last night? I know I have."

"Forget?" Ginny hooted. "Oh, I'll never forget. You needed Neville to take you to the gents' and then me and Niko carried you back here. Any of this sound familiar?" she asked sweetly, noticing the chagrin creeping into his expression as she talked. "Well, don't worry, I'll fill you in later. I still can't believe you're awake," she said, snuggling more firmly into her pillow.

"Oh no you don't, Weasley. Get up."

She yawned and closed her eyes. "Bring me breakfast."

"I will dump you out of this bed myself if I have to."

"If you were really sorry about last night, you'd let me sleep."

"Ha ha. No." She felt him leave the mattress.

"Night night," she sighed, just before he snatched her covers off. "Malfoy!" she howled, curling into the fetal position.

"Not...so..."

She looked up to see him wincing and rubbing his temple. "What's wrong?" she asked immediately.

"You shriek like a banshee," he groaned, dropping back onto her bed, her covers still hanging from one hand.

She sat up, and her head spun a bit. "Oh, sorry," she whispered, instantly contrite. His eyes were closed, his expression pained. She inched closer to him, eyeing the blankets he still clutched. "Your head must hurt terribly." Her fingers closed over her topsheet and she pulled.

Draco's knuckles whitened with the strain of holding fast. "Nice try."

"Oh, come on!" she cried.

He held a finger to his lips, grimacing. "You should get dressed."

"How? This is _your _room."

He pointed. Her bag was on a chair. "Shower first, maybe. You look a fright."

She rolled her eyes. "This coming from someone paler than the Grey Lady."

* * *

Neville remained smug throughout breakfast, exchanging secret glances with Pansy while Draco leaned back in his chair with his eyes closed, looking very ill indeed. She had started double-fisting tiny glasses of tropical fruit juice and kept bringing back plates with "just one more" small croissant. "I know I shouldn't," she moaned between bites of flaky pastry, "but they're just so good and nothing makes me feel better after a night of drinking."

"Nothing?" Neville asked innocently, catching her eye, and she flashed him a wicked grin in answer.

"Morning," Ginny muttered, setting her plate on the table. "I'd give anything for bangers and mash right now." She was dressed in her Australia jersey and although she looked a bit lethargic, she seemed otherwise normal, Neville was relieved to note.

Draco's eyes flew open at the sound of Ginny's voice and he snapped his fingers imperiously at the nearest carafe-toting waitress. He pointed at his cup and the one in front of Ginny in turn, and they were both filled with steaming dark liquid.

"What is it?" Ginny asked, cradling her cup suspiciously.

"They call it kardomel," Draco said.

She took a tentative sip. "It's really good!"

"You sound surprised." He smirked at her over his cup.

"I just forgot for a moment that you're a _nice_ drunk in the morning," she replied with a wink.

Pansy cleared her throat and pushed her plate aside. "So, Ginny," she said, leaning forward with a conspiratorial gleam in her eye, "you and Niko, huh?"

Ginny ducked her head, a flush creeping onto her cheeks. "Oh, I-"

"Don't be modest!" Pansy cried. "I saw that kiss! Talk about chemistry!"

The smile had slid off Draco's face at the mention of his cousin, but now he just stared at Ginny, dumbstruck and paler than ever. Ginny didn't notice, as she was laughing sheepishly under Pansy's leering gaze. "He _was_ really fit, wasn't he?"

"Um, _yes_!" Pansy agreed emphatically, and they both began giggling. "You'll have to get Draco to set up another rendez-vous! I'm sure Niko would love to see you again."

Ginny blushed furiously. "Oh, I don't know..."

She trailed off and darted a glance at Draco, who immediately snapped, "Absolutely not."

Ginny blinked, looking like she'd been hit by a jinx. Draco squinted back at her (he was probably trying to glare, Neville figured), his arms folded across his chest in clear disgruntlement. "I see," she said calmly, plucking her napkin off her lap and folding it carefully. "Forgive me. I forgot for a moment that I'm not good enough for your family."

"What?" Draco cried, flabbergasted. "No, you've got it all wrong. _He_'s not good enough for _you_."

"What, is he a Death Eater or something?" she sneered, and Draco flinched minutely. "Whatever," she muttered, standing. "I'll go pack."

"Ginny!" Draco hissed and made a failed grab for her hand. For a moment it looked like he was going to bolt after her, but instead he turned to Pansy. "You rancid _bitch_," he snarled.

Neville tensed, caught between reflexive panic and plain outrage that someone would dare to speak to his girlfriend in such a way (even if everyone at the table was thinking it), but Pansy just rolled her eyes. "Spare me," she drawled, examining her nails idly. "I was just being friendly."

Draco looked apoplectic. "Are you happy now?"

"Hardly. You're making a complete fool of yourself." She dropped the indifferent act and fixed Draco with a piercing look. "_Tell her_ already."

Draco's eyes widened. "Shut it," he warned, looking more desperate by the moment.

"You're pathetic to watch, you know that?" she continued, oblivious to the way his nostrils flared.

In seven years, Neville had never seen Draco so paralysed with fury. He should've been overjoyed at the sight of Pansy cutting Draco down, especially in light of their unpleasant wake-up call that morning, but he only felt queasy at the recognition of the wild fear behind Draco's every gesture. Neville knew what that sort of crushing uncertainty felt like and he couldn't help but pity Draco's situation.

Pansy pressed on ruthlessly. "Do you really think any of this matters to her? She's just-"

"Leave him alone," Neville blurted.

They both turned, as if just remembering his presence. Draco's eyes were full of incredulous rage, and he looked more than ever like a cornered animal. "Longbottom, shut your _fucking_ mouth or I will shut it for you."

"Don't you _dare_ speak to him like that," Pansy hissed, and for a moment Neville thought the two of them would come to physical blows. At last, Pansy spoke, never taking her eyes from Draco's. "Neville, be a dear and finish packing my bags?"

"Don't," he said softly but she waved him off so he sighed, scooped up Ginny's cup, and went to their rooms.

"Oh, thanks," Ginny said absently when she opened her door to receive him and he presented her with the cup. She glanced around him. "Is Draco with you?"

"No, it's just me."

She sighed. "I totally overreacted down there, didn't I?"

"You might have. Can I come in? Pansy wants me to pack her things."

"She can't do it herself?" she asked, stepping aside to let him in.

"What is _with _everyone this morning?" he muttered.

"We're all hung over and sleep-deprived?" Ginny offered helpfully as Neville started gathering up Pansy's clothes. She took a sip of her drink. "This is so good." Her face fell. "He's been nothing but nice to me all morning. I'm so embarrassed. I mean, it's not like I even _want_ to be set up with Niko, not really – we don't even speak the same language! It's just – he'll be so wonderful to me and then suddenly it's like I'm dirt under his heel, you know?"

"You misunderstood him, I think," Neville said gently. "He's quite upset that he offended you." At least, Neville was confident that he _would _be upset about it after he finished his row with Pansy.

"He was just so horrible last night that I assumed...I don't even think he remembers last night."

"Ginny, I'm so sorry we left you with him like that," Neville said.

"Oh, no! That was fine!" she insisted. "I mean, I was angry about it at the time, but...some warning would've been nice. I had to sleep in Draco's pyjamas."

"Sorry," Neville said again.

"Really, it's okay." She smiled faintly. "He has nice pyjamas." She put a pair of shoes in her bag and then said, "I left Pansy's armband in your bathroom."

"Let's open the rooms up," Neville suggested, and he went to his room to help open the adjoining doors. "Where did the lilies go?"

"Draco," she said by way of explanation, stretching out on her bed. "I'm knackered." She closed her eyes and Neville worked in silence.

Pansy stepped into the room just as he was putting her jewellery away. "Thank you," she cooed. "There's hardly anything left for me to do."

"We're ready to go, then?" Neville asked, still a bit annoyed that Pansy had seen fit to ruin breakfast. "Where's Draco?"

Pansy shrugged. "Having a sulk down on the beach. I do hope he doesn't take too long. I don't want to rush for the Portkey."

"Merlin, I've really done it this time," Ginny groaned.

"Indeed," Pansy agreed cheerfully, ignoring the warning look Neville shot her way.

"Which way did he go?" Ginny asked, running out onto the balcony. "Just down to that cove? Maybe I can catch up with him."

"I could Apparate you down there if you want to save time," Neville offered.

"Please," Ginny said gratefully and latched on to him.

The beach was picturesque, all azure water, white sand, and rocky cliffs. Draco was indeed standing on the sand and looked in Neville and Ginny's direction upon their arrival. Ginny stepped away with a whispered thanks and Neville gave Draco a tight nod before Apparating onto his balcony. "I saw what you did at breakfast," he announced as he strolled back into the girls' room. "It was cruel."

"It was necessary." Pansy looked completely unrepentant.

"It wasn't _necessary_ to lead Ginny into a conversation you knew would cause an argument and then let her believe it was her fault."

"Draco needs to know," Pansy argued. "He needs to get this foolish notion out of his head, and she just keeps leading him on."

"Just leave them alone, would you?"

"He's my _friend_."

"And she's mine. She's not a bad person, you know. You could try giving her a chance."

"I have been," she said through gritted teeth. "I told you, it's not about her, it's about him."

"You should leave them both alone." Neville sighed. "Look what you've done. You've got me defending Draco bleeding Malfoy.

"He's not that bad either, you know."

"I know."

"You do?"

"Well, he did set this holiday up and I've been able to have half-decent conversations with him for once." At Pansy's sceptical look, he added, "He's still a tosser, of course. But somewhat tolerable."

"Hey, I never said he was that _good_."


	12. Reverse Pass

**Chapter Twelve: Reverse Pass**

The beach was breathtaking, but Ginny only had eyes for Draco. He looked very ill-at-ease as she approached, which only made her feel more embarrassed by her behaviour.

"Look, Ginny," he said stiffly, "if you really want I can owl Niko when we get back and ask him if he would like to..."

"Sit around and mime Quidditch moves at me for an afternoon?" Ginny finished. "I'll pass, thanks."

Draco blinked uncomprehendingly at her.

She forged ahead before he had a chance to speak. "I'm sorry about breakfast. I was acting like an arse."

He raised his eyebrows at this, but there was a definite smirk forming on his face. He said nothing.

"I forgot you're my bloody friend for a moment!" she cried, trying to fill the silence. "I should've trusted you. I just assumed you didn't think I'm good enough for-"

"Ginny," he interrupted, amused, "we've already had this fight." He gazed out to sea, still smirking. "We're okay, then?"

"I am if you are," she said.

He nodded at the waves. "Then let's enjoy the scenery and I'll try not to say anything to cock things up."

"Alright," she agreed, happy to get off so easily. With that weight off her chest, she was free to appreciate the way the water eddied around the crags in the cliff and the gentle sway of the trees. Sea birds cried above them and she looked down at the sand, struck by an impulse to take off her shoes and see if the beach felt as good as it looked. There wasn't time, though. Instead, she took a few steps towards the water and stooped over to pick up a seashell. When she stood again, she noticed Draco watching her with a small smile. "We should probably get back," she said. "All this bright light can't be good for you."

He shrugged his thin shoulders and together they walked back to the hotel.

* * *

Now that Ginny knew what to expect, the return Portkey journey wasn't nearly as trying as the outbound one had been.

"Home again, home again," Pansy sang under her breath as they walked out onto the concourse. "I hate unpacking." She turned to Draco. "Well, thanks for the lovely trip. We should get together again before I leave for Vienna."

"I'm headed to Berlin in a few days, and I've got a tight schedule until then."

"Berlin? Whatever for?"

"Brushing up on my German before I get to Durmstrang. I'm rusty."

"Well, we should try to grab a Butterbeer before you go, okay? Kiss kiss, darling," she drawled, presenting her cheek to him and receiving the demanded obeisance. Ginny's stomach twisted nervously at the sight as she remembered the last time Draco had kissed _her_ like that and how awkward it had been. "Stay in touch."

"Good luck, Pansy," he said, then turned to Neville and stuck out his hand. "Longbottom. I'm sure we'll meet again."

Neville took his proffered hand with an uncharacteristically wry grin. "See you, Malfoy." He spun towards Ginny and caught her up in a hug. "Have fun at Hogwarts."

"Hey, are you trying to say goodbye already? You're invited for my birthday in two weeks if you're still around. Pansy too," she added halfheartedly.

"I might be here. If I am, I'll definitely be there."

"Bye, Ginny," Pansy said and the girls waved at each other. Then Neville and Pansy strolled into the Apparition point, shared a brief word and a kiss, and Disapparated separately.

Ginny clasped her bag in both hands. "Well, I had a great time, Draco. Thanks for inviting me." She tensed in anticipation.

"I'll take you home," Draco offered. "That way you won't have to use the Floo."

"Oh, okay." They walked into the Apparition point. "You're invited to my birthday too, you know."

"I won't be here." He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close, the action somehow dampening her slight disappointment at his words. "I wish I could be, though."

They appeared outside of the Burrow's garden and as Ginny took her first sweet post-Apparition breath she felt Draco pitch towards her, his chest heaving. She braced herself against him and looked up in alarm to find his face paler than ever and his mouth open in shock. "Did you splinch?" she cried.

He shook his head, blinking hard. "Just...this is a bad morning to be Apparating," he said, his voice shaking a bit.

"We should've just taken the Floo," she fretted under her breath and tugged him in the direction of the Burrow. "Come in and sit for a bit. You can use the Floo when you feel better."

"I'm feeling better already," he insisted, digging in his heels. "You don't really mean to drag me in there to face your brothers in this condition, do you?"

He had a good point. "How will you get home, then?"

"Apparition."

"Oh no, you can't-"

"I'll be fine," he said with a crooked smile. "Although your concern is touching."

Ginny felt herself flush. "Well, excuse me for caring. At least rest up a bit here?"

"That, I can do."

She dug her toe into the grass. "You're really going to be gone by my birthday?"

His smile widened into a teasing grin. "Don't worry, I'll still send you a present."

"That's not what I-"

"Besides, your house probably isn't the best place for me."

"You know, I used to think that but I don't anymore. Now that I went on this trip, the secret's out. We're friends, and everyone's going to have to get used to it. And if you decide to come back to Hogwarts," she added impetuously, "I'll be your friend there too."

His eyes darkened with some solemn emotion she couldn't identify as he gave her a long, almost searching look. "It's a fait accompli," he said softly. "I can't change things now."

It was regret, she realised, regret filling his eyes. He should've told her his ludicrous scheme to leave Britain before he set it in motion. _Why_ hadn't he said anything? _Because you never asked_, she reminded herself. _You abandoned him_. She should've known something was wrong. If she'd only taken some interest in him, perhaps he would've been comfortable coming back to Hogwarts. Now he would be in exile at Durmstrang. She couldn't bear to apologise to him yet again, so instead she plastered a cheerful smile on her face. "So this is it, then?" she asked in a tremulous voice.

If his expression was any indication, he seemed to take some private delight in her distress. She braced for another wisecrack but all he said was, "It's only a year," his voice warm and sure.

He was right; it _was_ only a year. "Write me, okay?" she asked, eager to make up for past mistakes. "Tell me everything. I want to know."

He screwed up his face in mock concentration and gripped an imaginary quill. "'Dear Ginny,'" he said, pretending to write on his hand, "'woke up seven...minutes...early today...after dreaming about...rabid Nifflers. Toast...was burnt...ow!" he cried as she whacked him on the shoulder and he ducked away from her, snickering.

"You forgot how many steps you take to breakfast!" Ginny couldn't help but giggle with him as he bobbed upright, his white-blond hair gleaming under the sun. She'd never seen him like this, carefree and laughing and downright silly, without a trace of his signature Malfoy pomposity. How could she still be discovering new facets of his personality after a year? With a pang of sadness, she wished she could have seen more of _this_ Draco before he left. She always seemed to catch him at his worst, and now they were out of time.

He grinned broadly at her, brushing his fringe out of his eyes. "I'll make sure to record my sock colour every day," he promised.

"And how you're feeling," she reminded him gently. "I don't want you to feel lonely. You can always talk to me."

His expression softened until he was looking almost tenderly at her. "Okay."

She felt like she was leaving him in the interrogation room at Azkaban all over again. Before this fresh guilt could take hold of her, she skipped forward and threw her arms around him. She must have caught him by surprise because he staggered back a step, but soon he was pressed against her so tightly that she could feel the rapid beat of his heart.

"I'll miss you," he said in her ear, the words so low they might have been a whisper. His grip on her loosened and he kissed her cheek, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulled away. She'd been dreading this, but she was surprised by how natural it felt now. She supposed it was the result of hauling him around bodily for an evening and seeing him mostly starkers. A kiss on the cheek paled in comparison. Plus, she had to admit, she'd been in an odd frame of mind last time with the war still so fresh. She hadn't quite realised that they were friends, which had made everything...well, weird.

They stood facing each other in the meadow and Ginny tried to memorise his face, knowing that it would be some time before she saw him again. "Take care, Draco," she said at last. "Let me know if you make it home for Christmas hols."

He nodded as he took his suitcase in hand. "Goodbye, Ginny," he said, his grey eyes bright despite their redness. He smiled faintly and vanished with a crack.

"How was it?" were the first words out of Ron's mouth when Ginny entered the Burrow minutes later.

She sighed contentedly. "It was incredible."


	13. Epilogue:  The Next Match

**Epilogue: The Next Match**

It was getting dark, so Ginny touched down, dismounted, and ran a critical eye over her new Tinderblast Blazer, finding no fault whatsoever. She'd had it for a week and still couldn't believe it was hers. She had gasped with delight when her brothers had brought out a broomstick-sized package on her birthday, but she'd been hoping for a new Cleansweep at the most. It was undoubtedly the best birthday present she'd ever received, but not the only one she'd been given this year. Luna had made her a necklace that was actually quite nice, Neville had sent her chocolates, and Hermione had given her a copy of the new Gwenog Jones biography, _Definitely a Harpy_. Draco had owled her an entertaining letter from Frankfurt and a kilo of kardomel with a small enamelled press and brewing instructions. Inside the press she'd found a scrawled note: _Ginny, Enjoy delicous κάρδομελ. Great love, frend Niko Rallis._

Ginny propped her Blazer up in the broomshed and took a moment to admire it again. She was going to own the Quidditch pitch this year, no doubt about it. She ran barefoot up to the Burrow, dodging a garden gnome who tried to grab onto her toes.

"Ginny, dear?" her mother called from the living room as soon as Ginny shut the back door. "Could you come in here, please?"

Ginny gritted her teeth. No doubt her mum was doing some late-night de-Doxification or some other tedious chore that she needed help with. So much for lying on her bed and dreaming of Quidditch games to come. "Coming!" she said with as much false cheer as she dared, bolting down a small cup of water before jogging into the living room.

She stopped short in the entryway. Headmistress McGonagall was seated on the chesterfield beside her mother. "Hello, Professor," she said automatically, disconcerted to find a teacher waiting for her.

"Miss Weasley," McGonagall said crisply, peering at her over her square glasses. "I trust you had a pleasant flight."

"Yes, I...is everything alright?" she asked.

Her mum gave her an encouraging smile. "Everything's fine, dear."

"I bring you a proposition, Miss Weasley," McGonagall said. "Surely you remember the Tri-Wizard Tournament taking place at Hogwarts in your third year."

"Yes, Professor," she answered dutifully. As if she could forget that heart-stopping moment when Harry had gone up against the Horntail, the realisation that Harry would never ask her to the Yule Ball and her subsequent acceptance of Neville's invitation, or the horror of Harry bent over Cedric Diggory's dead body.

"I am pleased to inform you that you've been shortlisted as a candidate champion for this year's Tournament. Should you accept-"

"But that's impossible!" Ginny blurted. She distinctly remembered the second-years gloating to her third-year class that they'd be eligible for the Tournament in their seventh year while Ginny's class would miss it altogether. "The Tournament's every five years."

"True enough, Miss Weasley," McGonagall said, "but as the wizard behind the tragedy of the last Tournament has met his end, the Tournament has been rescheduled. Think of it as a celebration of sorts."

"So the Tournament is _this_ year," Ginny said slowly, "and I'm eligible to compete."

"Indeed. Understand that agreement to become a candidate champion bears with it the potential responsibility of acting as the Hogwarts champion and all of the personal risk it entails. Additionally-"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she interrupted, "but you're saying you want me to be the Hogwarts champion this year?" She looked over to her mum, who looked fit to burst with pride.

McGonagall's lips twitched in amusement. "The Goblet of Fire ultimately chooses the champions, but yes, you are part of a pool of students the Hogwarts staff has deemed appropriate for competition."

"A pool? Who else was chosen?"

"Zacharias Smith and your friend Miss Lovegood have already accepted," McGonagall informed her. "Should you accept also, your training will begin immediately. You will return to Hogwarts at once to ensure that your skills are well-honed before your journey and you will be required to learn German as quickly as possible."

"German?" Ginny echoed, startled. Her fingertips tingled.

"It is the language of instruction at Durmstrang," McGonagall replied. "I will teach History of Magic and Muggle Studies to the Hogwarts contingent myself, but you would be expected to take your practical subjects with the Durmstrang student body."

"Durmstrang," Ginny whispered to herself in wonder. It hardly seemed possible.

"I assure you that Durmstrang's reputation as a haven for Dark magic is outdated," McGonagall said. "If we did not think the school safe, we would not be holding the Tournament there."

"Oh, I didn't..." Ginny trailed off, mulling the situation over. Luna wasn't coming back to Hogwarts? Were _any_ of her friends returning to school? Dean and Neville had graduated, Colin was gone, and Luna and Draco were going to Durmstrang instead. She could finish her studies at Hogwarts or go to Durmstrang with Luna and Draco, possibly winning the Triwizard Tournament in the process. "Is there still a thousand-Galleon prize?" she asked.

"A thousand Kerzen this time around, actually," McGonagall said. "If the current exchange rate holds, it will be worth significantly more."

Ginny's heart thudded in her chest. "Mum? What should I do?"

"Do what you like, dear," she replied, beaming.

"Consider your decision carefully," McGonagall urged.

There was nothing to consider. Ginny found herself grinning uncontrollably. "Can I bring my broom?"

* * *

To be continued in _The Road to Lyonnesse._

Thank you to all of my wonderful reviewers, and to those of you who added this story to your alerts and favourites! Also, a very special thanks to those of you who were only interested in one of the two pairings in this story but read on regardless. I hope the "boring" half of the story ended up being better than you'd hoped!


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